Is Love Enough?
by FifthAttempt
Summary: After Kate Leaves, Castle takes action. After trying to contact her and getting evasions, avoidance, half-truths and lies for his trouble, he tries tough love. Will it work? Characters will die or be adversely affected. Because, what else can you expect when one person decides that she's the only one who can do the job? I don't own Castle.
1. Chapter 1

Rick

The bar had ambiance. It wasn't a place to go to get drunk, to drown your memories. It wasn't a place to temporarily dispel loneliness in the arms of a stranger. It had ambiance. It had started life as a dive, had evolved upward to a "cop" bar, and, finally, in the hands of its current owner, it had become a place where people could go to relax, surrounded by rich paneling, polished brasswork, and dim, though not gloomy, lighting; where people could sip and enjoy excellent liquor, fine wines, and superior microbrews. There was even a kitchen where a limited, though superb, menu was prepared. It was pricy, though not so pricy that it excluded those of moderate income who wanted to, on rare occasions, celebrate a special event. It was called "The Old Haunt".

In a booth towards the back of the bar, a lone man sat nursing a glass of excellent single malt and staring bleakly into the distance. If you looked, you would notice that he was, as he had, himself, once said, a "ruggedly handsome" man in early middle age: a tall man, strongly built, though getting a bit soft around the middle. There were some women, actually a great many, who found him more than attractive. He wasn't particularly concerned about those women. He was concerned about one woman, the only woman, really, that he really wanted to find him attractive – his wife.

His wife, who had, inexplicably, left him after not quite a year of marriage; a time that he had thought was happy for both of them. Her rationalization, that she had wanted to protect him and his mother and daughter from some sort of trouble that she was getting into, didn't ring true. He had asked for an explanation. She had evaded his questions, leaving him hurt and unsatisfied. So, he sat in his bar, the bar that he owned, and reflected.

Chemistry, he thought, that's the problem. They had chemistry. They'd had it from the very beginning; from the moment he'd started shadowing her at work, as part of the research for his new series of novels. But chemistry wasn't always good, sometimes the results were toxic. He'd had chemistry with his first two wives and it had fizzled with both of them (was that, he wondered, a good chemical word – _fizzled_ like an experiment that was supposed to explode but only sputtered and died?). At least with Meredith something good had happened, probably the best thing that had ever happened to him, his daughter, Alexis. He'd kind of hoped that he and Kate would have a kid, boy or girl, it didn't matter, though he favored girls, especially strong-minded, willful, hyper-intelligent girls – like Alexis. Kate had said she was open to the possibility. Then she'd left.

What, he wondered, was wrong with him? He fell in love, married, and then it was over. To be fair, his first marriages had ended more because of him than because of them. But still, the only relationships he'd been able to maintain were few – his mother, his daughter, his publisher, Gina (who was also his second wife - they did work well together professionaly), Hayley, his employee at Castle Investigations, but never his wives, never women with whom he'd had a commitment. And Kate, Kate had really hurt him. She'd left. She'd hinted that she might come back, explained nothing, and left. It had been two months of little contact, unreturned calls, unanswered messages, evasions, avoidance, and outright lies: two months of unkept promises, broken dates, and hasty, unsatisfactory meetings that left nothing resolved, nothing answered. He'd gone to the Precinct where she was a Captain of detectives and been politely, but firmly, shown the door and told that the Captain was out and would get in touch with him "soon". He'd mailed her a note – snail mail – and asked her to meet him at the bar for their 1st anniversary celebration. The bar would be closed to the public. It would be the two of them, their friends, and family. She'd sent a note back saying she'd be there. But something had come up and she had failed to show. Lanie, Esposito, and Ryan, her co-workers, had shown up, but she had not. And still, no explanation. Even Lanie, her closest friend, had no explanation. The party broke up fairly soon, leaving booze undrunk, food uneaten, presents unopened, and a very broken-hearted Castle, who had retreated to the back booth with the single malt and was in the process of getting drunk.

His phone rang. When he saw that it was Kate, he felt torn. He wanted to talk to her, to find out what was going on, but he was afraid that if they did talk, it would just be more evasions and, possibly, outright lies. He was too drunk to listen to the truth and not drunk enough to hear any more lies and non-answers. He stared at her avatar for a long minute then, very gently, declined the call and turned the phone off.

He got up and went outside. The air was cool and damp and served to sober him up a bit, but not enough, he realized, to drive. He made sure the bar door was locked and checked that his car was locked and the alarm was on, then he went in search of a cab.

He woke the next morning, in bed alone, as had become usual, and in the loft alone: thoroughly hung over.

"Happy anniversary", he muttered, and staggered into the bathroom for a shower. The shower served the purpose of making him feel better, physically. Mentally and emotionally, though, he was a wreck. He forced himself to eat a bagel and drink some coffee, though he had no appetite.

The loft, he decided, was really too damned big for only one person.

Martha had, finally, gotten her own place. Alexis was in the process of moving to Boston, she'd been accepted to Harvard Law School.

And Kate had left.

He wandered into his study and sat at the desk. He leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and swiveled the chair back and forth, left to right, right to left, like a child. It was soothing and relaxing. He was having a hard time getting started with his day. He decided to check his phone, it would be something to accomplish. There were six calls from Kate, and three texts, none of which he read. There was a text from Alexis, asking how he was doing and telling him she would stop by and take him to lunch – something to look forward to. He texted her back – he was fine, he'd love to have lunch with her. 12:30 ok? He wondered if he should read the texts from Kate or delete them, he decided to ignore them for the time being.

He leaned back in the swivel chair and closed his eyes again. The next thing he knew, Alexis was next to him, shaking him. "Come on, dad, wake up".

"Hey, sweetheart. Wow, I must have been more tired than I thought. So, where do you want to go for lunch? Or would you like to order in or make something?"

"I've reserved a table at Dahlia's." Dahlia's was a favorite Middle Eastern eatery near The Old Haunt.

"Ah, well, that works. I left my car at the bar last night... or was it this morning... so I can pick it up when we finish. Let me find the keys."

Alexis dangled them in his face. "Already got you covered."

Alexis and Martha

Alexis was not happy: not happy with much of anything. Her father, who'd always been whimsical, playful and capricious, but fundamentally strong, sure and focused, was floundering. Her stepmother, who had, in spite of Alexis' reservations, had made her father happy, was absent without good reason, which was the core cause of her father's uncertainty. She, herself, usually assured and focused, had no idea where to go or what to do next. Of law school she was certain, but other than that, everything was in flux and she did not want to leave New York, even for a place only a few minutes away by air, until she was sure her father was in a better place. She had made the reservations at Dahlia's, not out of any clear plan, but just because it was doing something, anything, rather than dither. That was what was bothering her about all this; her father, who had told her on several occasions, that action was better than non-action, that doing something was better than doing nothing, was dithering. Her beloved whimsical, capricious, playful, strong, sure, and focused father was dithering.

They drove along in silence; Alexis deftly steering in and out of traffic at speeds that would ordinarily have her father putting on imaginary brakes and twitching. She glanced at her father, he was staring out the passenger side window, not really seeing anything. She had been relieved to see that, while he had been asleep in his desk chair when she arrived, he had gone to the trouble to take care of his grooming - showered, shaved, combed and dressed in clean, pressed, matching clothes. The business with Kate hadn't completely derailed him. It would be possible, she thought, to get him back in his zone. She allowed herself to smile.

The headwaitress led them to a table located in a pleasant corner, between a window with a view of a nicely landscaped Mediterranean-style courtyard and a pretty, small fountain - very much an idealilzed picture of the dining room of an upscale Middle Eastern home. Just as they were being seated, Martha Rodgers sashayed in, "Ah, there you are, darlings." She kissed them both on the cheek and allowed her son to seat her.

"Mother, I thought that this was just Alexis and me. She didn't tell me you were coming. Not that it would have made difference. I always look forward to time with my two favorite girls."

"Don't lie dear. I may be one of your favorite 'girls', but I doubt that you look forward to spending time with me all that much."

"Now that you've all moved out, the loft gets - oppressive. It's too big for just me. I've actually been entertaining the thought of selling it, or at least leasing it out and finding a smaller place. In any case, now that you're in your own place, I do miss you."

"To put not too fine a point on it, love, if Kate were there, where she belongs, you would miss me less."

"Gram.." Alexis tone was a warning.

"Oh, sorry, dear, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, Gram, it's ok. It's something we need to discuss, just not right now. Let's have lunch first. Dad, I think I'd like to order a hummus and pita chip appetizer, how about you?"

"I think I'd like baba ganoush along with the hummus, if that's ok. I'm starting to get just a bit hungry. Hey, why don't we make it an appetizer meal like we used to do - hummus, baba ganoush, pita chips and bread, raw veggies, goat cheese, dolmas, dates, figs, Morrocan tea ..." He trailed off.

"That sounds good, Dad, but you'd better eat, instead of just pushing things around on your plate trying to fool people."

Alexis poked the dolma on her plate with a fork, then mashed it and poked some more, covertly looking around to make sure that no one had seen how little she'd eaten. Ordinarily, she loved this food and would eat enough to get seriously lethargic, but it just had no taste today. The situation had stolen everyone's appetite. She tried to think of a way to broach the subject that Martha had briefly alluded to before lunch. What were they going to do about ... Kate. It was, she knew, primarily her father's problem, but still it affected all of them, even Lanie, Ryan, and Esposito, and it needed to be dealt with. Damage control was needed and she had no notion of how to get started. She glanced at her father, his face mirrored her thoughts. She decided to jump in - action, in this instance, was better than inaction.

"Dad, about this situation with Kate..."

"I know what you're going to say. At least I think I do. I can't control her, but I can control myself, and I need to take some action. I really have been thinking about it, and I have some ideas." Alexis gave him "the look", which he interpreted, correctly, to mean that he should shut up and listen.

"Dad, Maybe you do know what I'm going to say, but at least let me say it. You ... we have to be rational about this. We don't know what Kate's doing or why she's doing it. She's shut us out so we're going to have to use alternate means of finding out. I've already talked to Hayley ... I know, I know, I should have asked you, but you were kind of out of it ... and she's doing a background check on this Vikram Kate's "working" with. Meantime, you ... we have to figure out how we, personally,are going to proceed. I really don't want to leave here until I'm sure you're ok."

"Hmm, yes, having a PI license and my own agency is something we should use." He smiled rather grimly, "I hereby hire Castle Investigations to find out what the Hell my wife is up to and why she left. Shall I put that in writing?"

"Mm, no. Plausible deniability and all that."

"God, you sound like a lawyer already. Ok, that's one thing done. Next?"

"Dad, I know you hate doing nothing, but I think you should take a back seat to Hayley on this, you might, without meaning to, miss things that would make Kate look bad and we need to find out everything we can: no glossing over things because you might not like them."

"But I need to do something."

" I know. Oh, I'm going to move back in the loft with you, at least temporarily. You shouldn't be there alone. Anyway, you needing to do something. You can direct the investigation from the office, I'll come in with you and do admin stuff. We can move Kate's stuff into one of the unused bedrooms so you don't have to deal with it until we know where we stand with her. I don't think you should go out in the field on this, though I don't expect you to listen to me. Gram, if Kate is telling the truth about danger to us, it's not going to go away just because she went away, that's a really delusional idea on her part, so I think you should come back to the loft, too."

"Lex, maybe we should hire some 'muscle' to protect your grandmother when she's going to the theater or her school."

"Actually, not a bad idea. Maybe your friend Ethan would know someone."

"Or Jackson Hunt."

"Oh, darling, how do you propose finding him? He only shows up when _he_ wants to and never leaves a forwarding address. Besides, I'm rather enjoying my little 'bachelorette pad'."

"Gram, this is serious, if we _are_ in danger, we need to stay together as much as possible. And none of us should go anywhere alone."

"Yes, I know dear," Martha sighed heavily, "and always keep our phones charged and in reach and if we are home alone, don't answer the door unless we're expecting someone and know who it is. Alright, I surrender, I'll move back - but only until this ... nonsense ... is over."

"Dad?"

"Sweetheart, it feels like taking two steps back, but ok. I want you two to be safe. Or at least as safe as possible. And I don't know that Ethan Slaughter is the right person to ask, but I have some connections."

"Ok. Dad, I'll take you to your car: then I'll take Gram to her place and we'll grab some of her things and meet you back at the loft."

"What about your things?"

"Already packed and in the car."

"Tell you what, I'll follow you there. I don't want to sound paranoid, but I'm a bit more than worried about all this." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "How would you feel if I asked Hayley to stay with us? She's damned good at what she does and we have plenty of room. And that would take care of the 'muscle'."

"Dad, are we all going to go around in a foursome? That seems ... unwieldy."

He got in his car, "We'll talk about it at home. I'll call Hayley and ask her to meet us there."

Hayley

In spite of her attitude of gentle mockery, Hayley liked Castle and, for the most part, respected him. He was, in her opinion, slightly too susceptible to the women in his life, and she did use that to her advantage, but she also knew that if those women were remotely threatened, he could and would be a badass. And as civilian badasses went, he was one of the dangerous ones. So, when he called her she heard not only what he said, but how he said it, and treated the request as an order. She arrived at the loft at the same time they did.

While Alexis and Martha retreated to their rooms to get settled, he showed Hayley to one of the guest suites.

"So, you want me to stay here. Why?" She suspected she knew why, her research into Vikram's background, while not remotely complete, had revealed some unsettling information and she figured that, while they may not have _that_ information, they knew something dangerous was afoot. She also guessed that Castle was asking her stay in order to protect Alexis and Martha from whatever was looming. She silently cursed Kate Beckett for a fool.

"As soon as Mom and Alexis are settled, we'll tell you. As soon as we've finished talking, you can go back to your place and pick up whatever you need"

She chuckled, "Not necessary, I always have a go-bag with me. It should hold me for a week or two. If it's any longer, you can buy me anything I might lack. When you've filled me in, I'll go to the car and get it."

Getting Hayley up to speed didn't take as much time as he thought, largely because she had already filled in most of the blanks. She and Rick "checked the perimeter" meaning they made sure all his security protocols were working and properly placed. She was quite impressed, for a dilettante he was quite knowledgeable and cutting edge. There were two security cameras placed at the entry - no one would notice them unless they actually knew they were there - and they could be remotely adjusted for angle and distance. There were additional cameras at other points of access - windows, fire escapes, external vents. There were few, if any, blind spots. There was also redundancy, she noted, if someone found the main cameras and disabled them, there were backups. Then, of course, there were the alarms, laser trip wires, the concierge (a retired cop), and a panic room. Rick had even managed to hook up a camera in the lobby. Provided they paid attention, there was no way they could be taken by surprise.

"Are you paranoid, Castle? I know politicians who have less security than this."

"No, originally it was part of my research for a Derrick Storm book. After I had it installed it just seemed wrong to uninstall it."

"You don't do things by halves, do you? Well, I suspect that, as long as you all stay in Fort Castle, no one will be able to harm you. But, you don't intend holing up here, do you? Life as usual?"

"Normal lives, as much as possible. I want you to stay with Mom and Alexis as much as possible. I'll be looking up a friend and, when I'm out and about, I'll see if I can hang with him."

"Your mother and daughter are going to require more than I can do. I'll need to bring in someone. Is that ok."

"Whatever you think, you're the expert."

"If you were truly to invoke my expertise, you'd very publicly disassociate yourself from Beckett, file for divorce, and make sure the press knows."

"That's an option I'm keeping open, if what she's doing is truly necessary, if there's a very good reason, if ... damn, there are too damn many ifs."

"Precisely."

"I'll consider it."

"I know you love her. And I'm sure, in her way, she loves you. The question is, does she love you enough? And, all things considered, is love enough?"

"That is the question, isn't it." He suddenly slumped, looking old and tired. "I'm not sure how long I'll be able to do this. She's never there. She makes dates and doesn't keep them. She makes promises and breaks them. She evades, she lies... . I'm her husband, I do have a right to know what's going on. Of all the things I love about her, her confidence, her pride, her competence, are the most attractive. But this is arrogance, this is, what did the Greeks call it? Hubris? At least it feels like that."

They adjourned to the great room, where Rick pulled out a bottle of his favorite single malt and poured himself a glass. He offered one to Hayley who accepted a small one, and then offered another to Alexis and Martha. They sat in silence for a time. Then Rick broke the silence. "Tomorrow, we have some things we need to do. Hayley, can you call that friend you were talking about?" She nodded. "Mom, Alexis I'd like you to come to the agency with me. We're going to need to go into investigative mode. I'll need to call Ethan Slaughter. With any kind of luck, he'll lhave gotten himself suspended and I'll be able to get him working with us." He paused, "I don't like to do it, but I'm going to call Ryan and Esposito and see if I can get them to come in and have a chat with us. If we can get their help, it wouldn't hurt."

"That sounds like a plan. Listen, I'm going to get my go-bag now. I'll get settled, then, maybe we should just chill and relax. This hasn't been a soothing 24 hours for any of us."

"I'll go down with you. When we get back, I want you to look at some texts on my phone. Kate sent them and I haven't read them yet. I think I was waiting for a less biased eye to see them."

The texts and a couple of voice mails were predictable. The usual 'please answer', 'please pick up', 'please let me explain', it was nothing unexpected and nothing reassuring. Hayley saw no more or less in it than he did. She did suggest that he respond, though.

It took a very long time to come up with an answer. He was, he thought, a professional writer, a wordsmith, a person who had perfected the art of the glib replies and polished responses, he should have, he thought, done it better, done it faster, been more polished. But, Hayley, reading it through, had said it was probably the best that could have been done because it wasn't polished and glib; it was real.

 _Kate, I don't want explanations, I want the truth. I want you to come home. If you aren't ready to tell me the truth, if you aren't ready to come home, then don't try to contact me. I'm through trying to contact you. Call Gina when you're ready to be honest, when you're ready to be my wife again. Rick._

It took longer to steel himself to hit 'send' than it did to write the text. Finally he put his finger on the icon, closed his eyes, and sent it.

"You'd best tell Gina about this," was all Hayley said. He nodded.

Gina

When Gina got his message, her initial response was one of shock. However, it didn't take her more than a moment to close her mouth and start circling the wagons. She was, she reasoned, going to keep her best property, one Rick Castle. Nikki Heat, on the other hand was probably one book away from dying, so, once this unfortunate situation was resolved, she would give Rick a couple of months to resolve his emotions about whatever happened, and then start brainstorming on new projects. She was also somewhat pleased that Rick had chosen to use her as his liaison with Kate, that meant she could exercise some control over the situation. She realized the Castle wanted more than just a liaison, he knew she was good at reading people and good at deflecting them if it was needed. She would make damn good and sure that Beckett was being honest and would an effective gate keeper if she wasn't.

Beckett had somewhat disrupted her plans for Castle's continued writing career. The Nikki Heat series was successful, but his writing in general had taken a back seat to his association with Beckett. There had been missed deadlines (not by more than a couple of days, granted), and editing issues (his writing was, as usual, high quality, but some of directions the stories took didn't always work). And, of course, there was the ongoing risk to his life. Besides, Gina knew that he had some ideas about more serious work, social and political commentary, that she liked and wanted to encourage. Arguably, they might not bring in as much money, but they would still be profitable, and would serve to establish him as, not just a popular writer, but as a writer of literature. The reputation would not hurt her firm in the least. Beckett was obstructing this.

She decided to call him to confirm her actions where Beckett was concerned. It would not be a good idea to overstep, though she didn't really think that she would; she had been married to him and knew him too well; he wanted Beckett back, but on the right terms, and she would enforce those terms.

Almost as soon as Gina had finished with Castle, her phone rang; she put it on speaker.

"What the Hell is going on between you and my husband?" Beckett opened without preamble.

"I'm a publisher, he's a writer who's under contract to my firm. And given _your_ current, behavior, you hardly have a right to comment on _his_ behavior, or mine, for that matter. Oh, and for your information, this call is being recorded."

"What right do you have to record this call?"

"The same right I have to record all calls made to my business phone. Now, I did tell you in advance, so you have no reason to complain. If you don't like it, hang up. So, then, just why are you calling?"

There was an audiable sigh of frustration at Kate's end of the line. "He sent me a text saying that, if I wanted to talk to him, I needed to go through you."

"Mmm, actually, that's not what he said. What he said, and I quote, was, 'call Gina when you're ready to be honest, when your ready to be my wife again'. There was more, but we won't go into that. So, are you ready to be honest and be his wife again? Or is this just another round of chain-jerking?"

" . . .husband"

"Where were you when he wanted to talk to you?"

"That's not your business. I want to talk to my husband."

"No. Not unless you're ready to do what he asked: tell him the truth, stop evading his questions, and go home."

"You know I can't do that."

"I don't know any such thing. So, unless you have something meaningful to say, this conversation is over." Gina prepared to hang up.

"Wait! I really do need to talk to him."

"You know the terms. You tell him the truth, you stop evading his questions. You stop avoiding contact. You go home. You honor your promises. Otherwise, you're SOL.

"You're not helping."

"It's not my job to help you. My job is to publish his work and keep people, in this instance you, from wasting his time."

There was a pause, then Kate said, "You're still in love with him! That's why you won't let me talk to him."

"And you're a delusional, know-it-all, arrogant bitch; and that's why you don't think you have to be accountable to your husband or the other people in your life." Gina replied matter-of-factly. "This conversation is over." Gina ended the call and leaned back with some satisfaction. She then hit speed dial.

Hayley picked up. "Castle residence."

"Hayley? This is GIna. I'm forwarding a recording of a conversation I just had with Kate Beckett to Castle's computer."

"Huh, well, we'll all be interested to hear that. Do you need to speak to him?"

"Maybe later, I"m expecting something to hit the fan fairly soon, vis-a-vis Beckett, and I want to be ready. I'll let you all know what happens."

"Ah, gotcha. Well, you have fun with her." Hayley ended the call.

Gina looked at her clock: 4:30 pm, not even close to time for a busy publisher to go home, however, she decided, she deserved a treat - an early night. She checked her schedule to make sure she had nothing pressing for the rest of the day, shut everything down, gave instructions to her assistant, and left. If Beckett called, she'd get voice mail. She texted Castle that she was going home and that he could contact her on her cell if necessary.

Castle

"Dad, I didn't know Gina could be such a hardass." Alexis smiled, a small, barely there, smile. She had been hurt and furious with Beckett since she had walked out and found herself silently cheering Gina.

Martha felt much the same way her granddaughter did. "Gina's a successful woman in a field where men predominate; she has to be a hardass. You know, I never did like her as a daughter-in-law, but as a publisher and a friend, she's a treasure."

Castle looked thoughtful, "I don't know, that was pretty harsh. Kate could react badly. Maybe I should ask Gina to dial it back a bit."

"Castle, don't you dare." Hayley replied. "That's exactly what she needs to hear. She has to know that we don't accept her actions, regardless of her excuses. She needs to hear some truths about herself. " Hayley swirled the ice cube in her glass. "Gina's doing fine. In fact, based on that conversation, I think she's the perfect person to be your liaison with Beckett." She paused. "I contacted my friend. He'll meet us at the office tomorrow morning, first thing. And, as much as I like your single malt, we need something resembling food. I'm going to check what's in the kitchen, anyone with me?"

Hayley, as it turned out, was an excellent cook.

Beckett

Beckett looked at her phone balefully. She wasn't accustomed to people pushing back and it momentarily threw her off. She snorted, hit redial, and got the recorded message. _Hello, this is Gina Cowell's office. I'm temporarily away from my desk. Please, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you for calling._

After hitting redial several times and getting the same message, she gave up in disgust. "Castle said you could be passive-aggressive when you didn't like something." she muttered. "Well, we'll see how passive-agressive you are when I show up at your office door."

It took only a few minutes to arrive at Gina's office. She strode to the assistant's desk , wearing her police persona like an extra skin, and demanded to see Gina.

"I'am sorry, Miss ...?" The assistant looked expectant.

" "

"Oh. Well, then. I'm sorry Miss Becket, Ms Cowell has gone home for the day. May I give her a message?"

"It's _Captain_ Beckett, NYPD." Kate showed her badge. "And I don't believe that she's not here." She started walking towards Gina's door.

"Officer Beckett, I already told you, Ms Cowell is not in. She's gone home. Please, don't make me call security."

Kate took a deep, frustrated breath. "And as I said, I don't believe that she's not here. And it's _Captain_ , not officer, and I'm with the NYPD. Now, may I see her." Kate's tone was demanding.

" _Captain_ Beckett, unless you are here on police business, I will not let you into her office. And, if, indeed, it _is_ police business, I would think you would have a warrant. Do you have a warrant? If not, then I will repeat, Ms Cowell has gone for the day. I will, if you wish, take a message and give it to her first thing in the morning. Or, if you prefer, you can come back tomorrow; she usually arrives here at 6:30 am. She has a full schedule of meetings and appointments, so I would suggest that you be here promptly at 6:30."

Kate's mood couldn't have gotten any darker. She loosed an aggravated sigh and muttered, "fine, thank you for your ... help," turned on her heel and left.

She waited in her car for close to two hours, watching the building. At 7:00, the receptionist walked out of the building. Looking up at the windows, Kate noted that the lights were off and realized that she wasn't going to see or talk to Gina that day. She redialed Gina's number, left a message, and drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

Kate had a bowl of cereal for dinner. Had it come to this, she wondered, cereal in a lonely room, arguing with her husband's ex-wife, and now completely cut off from Rick, not by her choice but by his. She was starting to feel … she wasn't sure what she felt – unsure, insecure, defeated? No, none of those, she would not feel any of those. She was strong, confident Kate Beckett; she was righteously angry Kate Beckett. It was NOT her fault that she had to do this, it was NOT her fault that she had to leave her family in order to protect them. It was their fault for not understanding, for not accepting her word that it was for the best, that she would be back as soon as she … what - took Locsat down? Yes, took down the people who were, ultimately, responsible for the deaths of so many people close to her. Then she would make them understand that it was something she had to do and that the only way she could protect them was to leave them. Her thoughts were starting to go in circles. She would make Castle understand that it was for him, Alexis, and Martha – for their own good, for their protection, that she was doing this. And she would make him understand that cutting her off was unacceptable, that he had no right … . Her thoughts trailed off, somewhere in the back of her mind a tiny voice said, _you left him with no good explanation, all promises and evasions, and you've been avoiding him ever since. You missed the anniversary party. If he'd done that to you, wouldn't you be angry?_ She shook her head. She couldn't let herself think like that, it destroyed her focus. It made her uncertain, weak. It undermined her. She'd think about it later, after the job was done. She had a glass of wine (Reisling went very well with cheerios) and went to bed.

Her phone rang at 6:30 the next morning, jarring her awake. She answered groggily.

"You left a message for me, Captain Beckett?" Gina sounded bright and cheerful.

"What? Oh, yes." She walked into the bathroom and dashed some water on her face.

"Well, what do you want?"

"You know what I want."

"You know that I can't give you what you want unless you give Castle what he wants."

"Are we going to go around and around about this? I want to speak to my husband. If he's going to cut off communication with me, I deserve to know why."

"You do know why, and don't even try to deny it, at least not to me. You can deny it to yourself all you want."

"This is going nowhere."

"You're right, it is. Now unless you actually have something new to add to the mix, I'm hanging up."

Something new, "Yes, something new. I can make your life very difficult if you don't cooperate with me."

There was a light chuckle at the end of the line. "Are you threatening me? I'm going to tell you something that you probably don't know; I'm not a member of the New York Bar, or any other State's Bar for that matter, but I do have a law degree and I do keep up on my reading, comes in handy when dealing with writers who don't know a Habeas Corpus from a Corpus Delecti, and if you, ever again, suggest that you would use your status as a police officer to intimidate or manipulate me into doing something, well, just remember, our conversations _are_ being recorded and I do know how to contact your supervisor." She ended the call.

Kate was left reflecting. How had she come to this? Did she really just threaten to misuse police powers on Gina? It was so not like her. Come to think of it, the whole situation was not like her. She stared at the bathroom mirror for a second and closed her eyes. This kind of thinking wasn't helping. She needed to focus, not on her crumbling life, but on Locsat. She could deal with her family and emotions after she put that to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Castle Investigations

The conference room wasn't small, but it was crowded. Ethan Slaughter's bulk alone would have made the room seem little, but when you added Castle, Alexis, Martha, Hayley, Ryan, Esposito, Lanie, Jim Beckett, and a medium-height, medium-build, medium-looking man who Hayley had introduced as Smythe Anders, it took on the spacious feeling of an overstuffed phone booth.

Castle, ever the good host, had brought in good coffee and tea, water and juice for those who didn't care for caffeine, and a selection of pastries. Ethan was soberly considering his choices, finally opting for a bear claw and black coffee. Anders was already seated with a cup of, what he termed passable, English Breakfast tea and a scone.

Slaughter spread out in full manspread, taking over an entire end of the table. Smythe glanced at him with every appearance of British, upper-crust disapproval. Ethan grinned at him.

Castle went to the head of the table and signaled Hayley to join him. Everyone took seats around the table and looked at him with expectation.

"Ok, I think most of you know why I wanted to talk to you." He looked around. Everyone continued to look at him. "And I figured that, rather than talk to you individually, I'd get you all together, if possible, and take care of it all at once. I'm going to ask some favors. If anyone doesn't feel comfortable with doing them, I'll understand. But, I get the feeling that, eventually you're all going to be dragged into this – yeah, even you Ethan." Ethan's grin got even broader.

"This got to do with that smokin' wife of yours gettin' herself into crap she's got no business gettin' into?"

Castle closed his eyes and counted silently to ten. "It has to do with Kate, yes. Whether or not she has no business getting into something has yet to be determined. Anyway, I'll let Hayley tell you what she's found out. Then we can decide how much further we should go and how concerned we need to be."

Hayley opened her laptop and put it on a waist-high counter. She established a connection to the plasma screen, and displayed her data. A picture of Vikram Singh and his vital statistics came up. She went through his association with Kate – his connection to her erstwhile A.G. team, his current semi-official attachment to the 12th precinct, and his apparent effect on Kate's actions. Then she launched into the interesting stuff: his complete lack of background. About the only things that could be truthfully said about him were that he was Anglo-Indian, he was alive, and he was human. He appeared, as Vikram Singh, on public records, 10 years ago – before that there was nothing, at least nothing that she had, so far, found.

So far, Hayley's research had been into Singh and Kate's A.G. associates. Because of the potential risk, the research into what they had been investigating when the team had been killed and where Vikram had so conveniently lived, was minimal. The name Locsat and its connection with Senator Bracken was the only information to date. They were about to go deeper.

When Hayley had concluded, Castle got up and said, "That's what we know. It's not much. Kate, when she communicates at all, says there's risk associated with her 'investigation', so she's avoiding us to protect us. I think, and so do Hayley and Alexis, that the risk isn't going away just because she's gone. I also think that the risk will extend to anyone who can claim to be Kate's friend or family. So, Lanie, Esposito, and Ryan, you and yours could be at risk as well. Ethan, you and Mr. Anders won't be in any danger unless you become actively involved in the investigation, so I'll be asking you to think about this carefully before making a choice." Slaughter's grin suddenly turned feral, and Rick knew he was in.

"What I want to do is go further into Locsat and find out why Kate's interested in it, what the risks really are, who got her involved, and whether it's really necessary for her to be involved. _I_ don't think she _does_ need to be involved. I think this is a decision she made out of the mistaken notion that she has something that only she can contribute to the job – I could be wrong, but I doubt it. Then I want to get her out of it."

He stopped and looked around the table, then continued. "I'm afraid for her. I think this could destroy her career, if not her life."

Everyone looked at him, waiting for more. He obliged.

"In a nutshell, this is how I think we should proceed. Mother, Alexis, I want you, as much as possible, to go about your daily lives as if nothing were wrong. I don't want you to be alone, ever. Smythe, that's where you come in, if you decide you want to do this – I need someone to watch out for them and help in the investigation. Ethan, you, Haley, and, I are going to investigate as a team, I'd like you to watch our backs. Espo, Ryan, Lanie, I'd like you three to investigate from the inside: find out where she's going, who's with her. Maybe you can get Tory in on this. You don't have to do this, but I'd appreciate it if you could. I'd like to keep it under Gates' radar for the time being, bringing her into it would, in essence, destroy Kate's career; it should be kept as a last resort. And remember, whether you get involved or not, you're likely at risk. If you get involved, it could increase your risk. We'll share findings on a regular basis, either meeting somewhere or via text or email. There are, potentially 10 of us – if we get Tory involved – and if we all participate. That's both a lot in terms of keeping this under the radar, and not nearly enough if things turn bad. Now, are you in or out? Do any of you have any ideas about how to do this, anything that could streamline the process, make it safer ?"

It came as no surprise that everyone was in.

What came as a surprise was the amount of input in fine-tuning the plan. Castle was good, as a writer, he had worlds of experience in planning this kind of action – on paper. But here, he was dealing with professionals who understood that the best made plan could and would go south the minute it was implemented. They fleshed it out and built in escape plans and contingencies. Even Martha, probably the least experienced in the area, had some good input as she pointed out that Hunter Jackson, Castle's father, had a habit of monitoring his activities from a distance and would, likely, involve himself if he considered that his son and granddaughter were in over their heads. She had no way of knowing that he was already involved.

The meeting broke up. Ryan, Lanie, and Esposito headed to the precinct. They had a full morning of work ahead of them. Two bodies had been found in Central Park – close to the stables, and Perlmutter had already texted Lanie twice, in irritation, demanding that she get there as quickly as possible so they could both get to work. Slaughter, to no one's surprise, was on administrative leave, so he stayed on to do what he did best. Smythe was already at work on his laptop, apparently digging around the fringes of Locsat, Castle was a little concerned, but Smythe just smiled and muttered something that sounded like "MI6 encryption protocols", and, suddenly he was feeling that they might just be ahead of the game and that perhaps, just perhaps, Smythe was there for reasons other than his friendship with Hayley.

Slaughter, who had heard Smythe's response, laughed. "Hey, we got 007 here, or what?" Smythe pointedly ignored him. Hayley shook her head.

"Come on, we have things to do, and some of them may even be of a practical nature, like getting groceries and paying bills." Alexis looked at her father, "Or getting some writing in – you do have a deadline, don't you?"

Ethan chimed in, "Good point. Castle, let's you and me go back to your place. I understand you're going to want us 'bodyguards' staying there for the time being so I want to get first dibs on living space and a look at your kitchen. If I'm gonna stay with you, I'm gonna do the cookin'. I'll want a look at what you have and see what you need. And I'll want a look at your security setup, too. Your mom can come with. You can write. Your mom and I can do the shoppin', and Alexis and Hayley can stay here with 007 and look out for things."

Castle and Martha left with Ethan – reluctantly; Castle didn't like leaving without Alexis, even though he knew she was as safe with Hayley as she was with him, possibly safer.

Two hours later, Martha and Slaughter had finally made a grocery list (He had also taken possession of what would have been the maid's room, if Castle had needed or wanted a maid. It was, he had explained, close to the kitchen, it had a private bath and it wasn't too close to everyone else) and gone shopping. Castle made sure they were gone and bailed out of the story he was working on. He sneaked into the bedroom (though why he was sneaking around his own empty home was an interesting question) and unlocked the gun safe at the back of his closet. He pulled out two weapons – a Browning .380 automatic and a Black Widow. The Browning was in a clip-on holster, he put it aside for the moment and loaded the Black Widow before putting it in his pocket. He then made sure the Browning was loaded, grabbed two boxes of ammunition, .22 caliber for the Black Widow, and headed down to the garage. In his car, he stashed the ammunition box under driver's seat and clipped the automatic to the top of the sun visor. He then went to his storage area where he found the CIA issue flak jacket he'd gotten when he was researching Derrick Storm, and a few other potentially useful items – a smaller flak jacket that would fit Alexis, night-vision goggles, a very illegal sawed-off shotgun with ammunition, and a phone that his father had given him when he and Alexis had been in France, with instructions that he use it only in an emergency. He stowed everything in the trunk of the car under the spare tire, except for the phone. He felt better prepared but not a lot safer. If they survived this, he thought, he'd kill Kate himself. He shook his head at the thought and went back up to the loft. It had taken him longer than he anticipated and he beat Slaughter and Martha only narrowly.

Dinner that night took on the vibe of a small party. Slaughter had created a gourmet feast and had served it with some of Castle's most expensive wine. Reports from everyone were fairly routine except for Smythe. He showed, what was for him, considerable excitement.

"I have managed to get through the firewall. There are several encrypted documents that shouldn't be too much trouble to, I believe you Americans call it "hack", into them. Once that's done, we should have a fairly good view of the organization and a basis from which to plan." He sat back in the chair. "Officer Slaughter, you put on a fairly good table, if you find yourself unable, or unwilling, to continue police work, I have a friend in London who's looking for a chef."


	4. Chapter 4

Kate sat at her desk staring, unseeing, through the window into the squad room. She sipped her coffee. It was, she decided, really terrible coffee; she missed Castle's coffee; she missed him sitting next to her desk either in companionable silence or expounding one of his outlandish hypotheses about a case; she missed the way he pushed her buttons, got her riled, and made her laugh all at the same time. Mostly she missed going home with him after the day was over, talking over dinner, sleeping, or more often, not sleeping, together.

She felt herself weakening. Her hand was hovering over the phone, ready to call Gina, ready to agree to Castle's requests, when VIkram walked in.

"I found something." He said.

She pulled her hand away from the phone. "I'm listening." She said.

He had chanced on a call from a burner phone. There was to be a drop made the next day at a warehouse by the docks. Loksat's second was to be there.

Kate pursed her lips. "This seems a little too pat, too easy. But still, we might pick up something. If we go in with the understanding that it might be a trap, we could accomplish something. The problem is that, if it's a trap, and we go in with just the two of us, the probabilities are that we don't make it out."

Vikram nodded. "You're right. Maybe we need to bring some people into this."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"We both still have contacts with the AG. I'm sure that they're just as ready to bring Loksat down as we are, after all, their people were the ones hit. And doesn't your husband know some people in the CIA? And didn't that woman, Hayley, have some sort of MI6 connection? Then, of course, there's the 12th Precinct."

"Do we want to bring that much firepower into something this tenuous? Besides, you know I want to keep Castle and his family out of it." Kate tented her fingers and looked thoughtful. "We don't have enough real information. There's a bit of time yet, see if you can find out anything more."

Vikram left just as Esposito walked in. Esposito gave him a long look, then walked to Kate's desk. "Yeah. Captain, there's something you should see." He let her go in front of him, lingered a bit at the bookcase by the door, and when he was sure she wouldn't notice, pulled something off the case and replaced it with another, similar, something. He slipped the item into his inside jacket pocket and caught up with her.

Tory and Ryan were waiting at Tory's computer station. On the screen there was a picture of a suspect in a recent case, along with her description and a nearly non-existent rap sheet.

Ryan started, "Captain, this is Elaine Stark. She was an employee at PetSource. Around the time of the store manager's murder, she was seen exiting by the service door and hasn't been seen since. Other employees have said that she was not on good terms with the manager and that her job was in jeopardy even though she was a good employee. It's reported that there was an argument and threats were made on both sides."

Esposito continued, "She doesn't really have much of a record, mostly parking violations, and one noisy set-to with a neighbor over the neighbor's supposed abuse of an animal. Charges of disturbing the peace and menacing were dropped."

"This is it? This is what I needed to see?" Kate was mildly annoyed. "You know what to do, go do it."

She walked back to her office. When they were sure she was settled in, they closed the door to Tory's office and Esposito produced what was a small recording device. "Do we listen here, or take it to Castle?"

"Take it to Castle. As long as she's in the office, listening here is too risky. In any case, we have a reason to go. We leave this with Castle, and head on over to the Stark woman's place." Ryan was already out the door. Esposito followed quickly with a hurried, "thanks, Tory" over his shoulder. Tory went back to her computer.

They found Castle, and the others, at the agency office. Castle was apathetically poking keys in a desultory attempt to advance his story. The others were, variously, doing administrative work, checking weapons, being annoying (Slaughter), or being annoyed (Anders).

Anders, in spite of Slaughter's prodding, had made significant progress decrypting the files and was putting together a synopsis of his findings. Slaughter, in spite of his inability to raise Anders's ire, had, with Hayley, assessed and allotted weapons (including the Black Widow, the .380, and the shotgun) based on ability and need. Hayley was cleaning her sniper rifle and preparing it for whatever was needful. Slaughter was doing the same with his only slightly contraband assault weapon (he had liberated it from a S.W.A.T. vehicle when no one was looking, they were still trying to find the "gang member" who had it, while simultaneously keeping the loss from internal affairs – Slaughter figured he'd slip it back into their inventory after the thing with Beckett was over and then sit back and enjoy the kerfluffle).

The recording of the meeting between Beckett and Vikram sent Anders back to his computer, this time to see if he could hack Vikram. Castle abandoned his writing and, with the others, started plotting. A tentative plan was put together, to be implemented if Kate followed up on Vikram's intelligence.

Following Vikram's trail proved to be easier than anticipated. While he was accessing the man's files, Anders found, not only evidence that the information from the burner phone was legitimate, – yes a "drop" was going to happen the next day and, yes, the information had been a plant to lure Beckett into a trap – but something both disturbing and reassuring about Vikram. He incorporated everything into his synopsis of findings and handed it off to Hayley who, in turn, gave it to Castle.

Castle skimmed the papers and immediately called everyone to the conference room.

"Vikram Singh is a plant, but not from Loksat." He started the meeting. "He's NSA and he's been monitoring the AG's office and now Kate. That means he's not necessarily for us, but he's not for Loksat either." He looked, one at a time at the people facing him. "Anders says it was too easy to hack his computer, so I can only assume that he wanted us, or someone, to get the information. That being said, I think Kate is going to be at this drop tomorrow. I want to be there. Except for Alexis and my mother, I would like all of us to be there. According to Anders' interpretation of the information, the drop is a trap, aimed at Kate and Vikram. Knowing my wife, she and Vikram are going to go in without backup. I'm going to call Ryan and ask him to get updated information, if possible, and to corner Vikram about getting his AG and NSA contacts involved. Hayley, Anders, can you get any help from MI6?" He fished the phone he'd been carrying like a talisman, out of his pocket, "I'm calling Hunter Jackson." Alexis looked at him questioningly. "Yes, Alexis, I'm calling your grandfather, he may not be able to be here, but he might know people who can. Slaughter, if you have any connections, legal or not, call them in. Things may not go bad, but I'm going to make sure Kate has backup if they do. Alexis, Mom, just because you're going to be here, in the panic room, doesn't mean you're out of action. We're going to hack into whatever surveillance is in the area and you're going to monitor from the computers. You'll be in contact with us, hopefully, at all times."

Anders smiled slightly, "you know that this may be just what Singh intended when he made it so easy to access his computer."

"That's what I was thinking."

Kate looked up from her desk as Ryan and Esposito entered with Elaine Stark. Ryan was just finishing a phone call. She looked back at some papers on her desk.

After settling Stark in an interrogation room, both men left her there, locking her in. "Espo, I just talked to Castle. He wants, as much as possible, updated information. I'm going to corner Vikram and see what I can get from him. As soon as you can, could you get the recorder from Beckett's office and get it to Tory? We may have to risk listening to it here. Oh, and we've been invited to 'dinner' at his place tonight. Including Lanie, Jenny, and the kids."

Esposito look slightly affronted at not being first contact, but let it slide (he'd revisit it later). "I'll tell Lanie." He looked in the general direction of Beckett's office, "She's still there. I'm going to 'interrogate' Stark. I'll let you know when she leaves so you can get away from Singh."

"Will do." Ryan headed for Vikram's computer room.

Vikram was surprisingly cooperative. He wasn't sure about the NSA, they didn't, he explained, like to get involved in overt actions unless it was unavoidable, preferring to let other agencies take the credit … and the risks. He thought, though, that he could get some cooperation from the AG's office. They were, after all, still continuing their investigation, just less aggressively. They did want to catch the people who'd killed their agents, just as every other police agency in the world would.

His phone rang. A fraction of a second later, Ryan's phone also rang.

"Vikram, I have to go. We need to know more, can you meet us after work tonight?"

"Of course, for a few minutes. Where?"

"Castle's loft. 6:00 pm."

"I'll be there. I won't be able to stay long, I expect Captain Beckett will need me to help set up plans."

Ryan nodded and slipped out the room and darted across the hall to the men's room.

He was just exiting the rest room, pretending to adjust his his belt, when Beckett came around the corner and, with a perfunctory nod, entered Vikram's workplace.

Ryan hurried back to the interrogation room and got there just in time to meet Esposito as he was coming back from Beckett's office.

"Got the recorder?"

Esposito nodded. "And I placed a new one, just in case."

"Ok. Aaaah, we should really finish interrogating Stark. Sooo, maybe we should get to it. You wanna do it, or should I?"

"I did a quick Q & A with her. She has an alibi; she was opening for her new job at Pets 'R' Us. I just finished checking and it was good. So, we're going to apologize for her trouble and cut her loose."

Vikram was waiting for them on the street in front of Castle's building. "Beckett wants to meet me back at the precinct at 7:00, so we don't have long." He followed them into the elevator.

Ryan half-turned to look at him, "Castle's expecting you, so you don't need to worry about any surprises."

"Ok. What is he going to want from me?"

"As much information as you can give him about tomorrow. Oh, and he knows you"re NSA, so don't try to pretend otherwise." Ryan smirked.

"He knows I'm NSA? How did he find out. My cover was supposed to be impenetrable."

Esposito outright laughed, "Our boy has his ways."


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry I'm so late with this. It's proven to be more difficult than anticipated._

Vikram was looking at his watch for the third time when Castle finally decided to talk to him. "Need to be somewhere?"

Vikram nodded. "I'm meeting Kate at 7:00 at the precinct. We're going over the plans for tomorrow's action." He looked at the crowd. "Tell me something; how did you know I wasn't who I said I was?"

Castle chuckled, "I have my ways. Oh, wait, you're serious." He smiled without humor. "Hayley and the others had their suspicions, which they shared with me, but even without that, I knew. It was your name."

"My name?"

'Your name. Your name couldn't really be Singh. Singh is a Sikh name, you're not a Sikh."

"How would you know I'm not a Sikh?"

"You drink alcohol, you eat meat, you don't, as far as I can see, practice any of the five Ks. Your job is, by definition, dishonest. If you're a Sikh, and you aren't, you're undoubtedly the worst Sikh alive. Now then, we need to talk about tomorrow."

"How do you know all this?"

"I'm a writer. Writers, at least writers who want to be good writers, do research. Now, about tomorrow?!"

"That's what Kate and I will be discussing tonight."

"So, will you call or message me with the results of your discussion?"

"I'll do better. I'll record it on my phone and send it to you."

"Good start. After your meeting, come back here. I don't like doing this, because, frankly, I don't trust you, but I think we're going to have to read you into what we're doing."

Vikram made it to the meeting with Kate on time, though barely. Their discussion was short and to the point. Since the drop, contrary to Loksat's usual practice, would take place in early evening, at around the time that police patrols changed shift, Kate and Vikram would be in position a couple of hours before that and have the surveillance equipment up and running a good hour before that. She would be concealed, at a point opposite the van, hopefully in a position to get pictures and pick up muted conversations. Both would be armed, just in case they were caught, and the likelihood of being caught was not low. They were as Vikram reminded her, going into what was likely to be a trap and, without backup, it was going to be more dangerous than it should be. They spent a half hour or so hammering out contingency plans and escape routes, none of which would probably work, but Kate felt it had to be done. Vikram, once more, attempted to persuade her that they could and should bring in backup. Kate's final "NO" was almost explosive.

"That's my final word. NO. BACKUP. I don't want Castle involved; I don't want his family involved. It's bad enough, given everything, that I'm involving you. Loksat's hurt enough people; I don't want more people harmed."

"And you think Castle isn't already hurt? You hurt him by leaving him. If you die doing this, he'll be hurt."

"He'll survive."

"Do you really think that Loksat will leave Castle and his family alone just because you left?"

"Yes, I do. And this is getting us nowhere. I want to check out the van and make sure the equipment is ready. I want to get to the drop site early to reconnoiter. If it is a trap, I want to set up some traps of my own."

"Fine, Kate. I tell you what. I'll go to the site when we finish here. I'll photograph the area and mail the shots to you. I'll give you an assessment of weak points. Will that help?"

"Yes. I could use that." She gave a wan smile, "This is one of those times when I wish Ethan Slaughter could be found. He has a way of acquiring - needful things – without getting caught. Well, we should get under way. Go – check the van and the drop site. I'll see if I can find some of those 'needful things'."

Vikram's first stop, after a cursory check of the van, was Castle's loft where he, Castle, and Hayley had a hurried discussion, after which he and Hayley headed for the drop site.

A careful and surreptitious survey of the perimeter yielded two cameras, and a laser trap that covered about two thirds of the open space by the warehouse. There was a conspicuously van-sized open spot in the middle of the trap. They found nothing else. They left the laser and camera apparatus untouched. Anders, given the information they gleaned, would be able to disrupt the traps remotely.

"Singh, am I being paranoid, or was that too easy? There should be more traps and these should have been harder to find."

"I agree. Something's wrong. I'm going to send photos to Kate with the recommendation that we abort and wait for a better opportunity. She won't take it, of course, but I'll have tried."

"Good. Let's get back to the loft; we need to tell Castle about this."

Castle sat back with his hands linked behind his head and considered what they had to tell him. "So, they expected someone to scout the place. That means that they've either set up other, more discreet snares or they're planning some sort of attack on another front. Or maybe both."

Slaughter, as always, grinned. "My money's on both. I'm thinking that you, your Mom, your daughter and, maybe, Laney," he nodded in her direction, "and Ryan's family might be targets."

"I'm inclined to agree. So, what do we do about it?" Castle up. "Maybe send them all to the precinct?"

"It's shift change, it'll be controlled confusion and vulnerable."

"Then, how about my office? Sequester them in the panic room until we're sure everything's clear."

"Better than the precinct, but not by much. Any of them good with weapons?"

"Mom and Alexis can shoot, I don't know about Laney and Jenny."

It didn't take long to hammer out a simple, flexible plan of action. By sunrise, Alexis, Martha, Laney, Jenny and the Ryan kids were ensconced in the panic room with weapons, food, and fully charged phones. Vikram was at the precinct, doing a final, detailed check on the van and discreetly tying Castle's communications and surveillance systems in with his own while keeping the additions off Beckett's radar. Castle's people were going over plans and contingencies, doing last minute equipment checks and moving, one or two at a time, into position.

The day dragged but, finally, the hour arrived.

Nothing happened.

No cars arrived. No drop was made. Nothing.

They waited.

There was more – nothing.

Then Castle's phone vibrated.

The screen lit up with a picture of Alexis.

A distorted voice said, "If you want to see them alive, you'll give us Beckett. You have 24 hours"

Ryan answered a similar call, as did Esposito.

Beckett received a call saying, "We have Castle's mother and daughter, Ryan's wife and kids. And we have the Medical Examiner. Stop your activities and come to us, with everything you've found, or they're dead. You have 24 hours."


	6. Chapter 6

_This is a very short chapter and, probably, one of the hardest, and, oddly, easiest, to write. The next one may take a little time, but, hopefully, not as long as the last chapter. Thank you for reading. I appreciate the all the input._

Castle was pacing: desk to door, door to window, window to desk. Occasionally he'd make a detour to the entrance of the panic room and watch as the crime scene techs went over it in careful detail. Then he went back to pacing. His face looked like it was made of stone. The others – Hayley, Anders, Ryan, Esposito, and Slaughter – stood or sat quietly around the room in varying states of shock and disbelief.

There was movement outside the windowed door and the all looked in that direction. Gina walked in.

"You're not Beckett."

"No, Rick, I'm not. What happened here?"

"Loksat. Whoever it is. They got Mom and Alexis." He looked at Ryan. "They got Ryan's family – and Laney. Why are you here?"

"There was a phone call. Someone – man, woman, I don't know, the voice was distorted – told me to pick something up and bring it to you. They said it was life or death." She looked around. "I guess they weren't joking." She handed him a manila envelope.

The seal wasn't broken. He looked at her. "You didn't try to read this. I'm surprised." She shrugged and turned to leave. "Gina, stay …. please." She nodded and found a chair.

He tried to read the contents, but comprehension evaded him. He finally handed it to Hayley who read through it. Then she read through it again and laughed without humor. "They've got everyone, Martha, Alexis, Jenny and the kids, and Laney. We need to get Beckett to them, at old south pier, by midnight tomorrow or they'll start killing – one every three hours – until they have her or – until they're all dead. Then they'll start coming for us – all of us, including Slaughter and Anders." She looked around at all of them, then at Gina. "and you, Gina."

By this time Castle had found his desk chair and sat, he slumped over the desk as if exhausted. "We need to find Beckett."

"Are you seriously thinking of turning her over to them?"

"I don't know, Hayley. We have to find her, though. She has to be here when I – we – decide what to do."

The CSU technicians were packing up their gear when a tentative knock sounded. Once again, all eyes were riveted on the door. Castle got up, walked around his desk, and stood in front of it. He nodded at Slaughter who went over and opened the door.

Kate Beckett walked in, followed by Vikram Singh. Vikram nodded at Castle, who nodded back. Kate stared at Castle's face, trying to read him, trying to reach something that she suspected was no longer there. He stared back.

"Castle. I.."

"Don't. Say. It. Don't say anything."

"But…"

"No." He leaned back, half-sitting on the edge of the desk. "I want you to tell me something. I want you to tell me why I shouldn't turn you over to Loksat. I want you to tell me why you should take priority over my mother and daughter: why you should be more important to anyone than Ryan's Jenny and their kids."

Kate looked around, her eyes stopped at Ryan. Ryan, red-eyed Ryan, shaking with rage, fear, grief: at Esposito, looking at her with icy eyes, seeing Laney: Laney who was her friend: at Slaughter, who was no longer smiling: at Gina - .

"I want you to tell me how leaving me and trying to keep me – _us_ – ignorant kept us all safe."

Silence.

"Talk, Kate. I want you to say something now. I want you to have something to say, anything, that will even start to put this right."

"If you hadn't .. "

"If I hadn't what? Started investigating? Refused to ignore the situation?" He looked grim. "I'll take responsibility for that. Yeah, that's on me. I knew that, whatever you were doing, whoever you were after, they weren't going to just happily leave us alone. I knew that regardless of what you thought, your actions would put us at risk. So I opted to find out everything I could, knowing it would be dangerous: knowing the potential for harm. My friends, my family, knew there were risks.

So, Kate," His voice was terrifyingly gentle "what I want you to tell me is why _you_ didn't think that we needed to know what was going on. What I want you to tell me is why _you_ thought that our ignorance would keep us safe." There was a terrible, long pause. "Answer me … if you can." He turned and walked around his desk to his chair and reached into the inside pocket of the jacket hanging on the back of the chair.

Kate flinched. "Castle – Rick. I thought … "

"No, you didn't think. Did you? You went merrily ahead, doing what you always do, thinking you know what's best for everyone. Almighty Kate Beckett, so damned secure in your power: so damned secure in my love." He waved her off. "Ethan, Espo – don't let her leave."

She backed away. She could have fled, she thought, fled from his fury, but there was no place to go that would let her escape from what she had done. Even if Ethan Slaughter and Javier Esposito had not blocked her path, she would stay.

He opened the old-style flip phone that he had taken from the jacket and pushed buttons. He listened for a moment, then said, "Hello, Jackson Hunt? Dad?"

In less than forty-five minutes Jackson and Rita Hunt were in his office.


	7. Chapter 7

Hungry, tired, dispirited, depressed: they all trooped back to the loft; Kate flanked by Ryan and Esposito – both silent.

In the loft kitchen, Slaughter began cooking dinner. No one was hungry, but they ate anyway.

Kate was feeling rebellious. She was seated with them, eating with them, and completely ignored by them. They talked around and over her – when they talked.

Castle noticed her restiveness. "What, Kate? You have something you want to say?"

"Yes. What are we going to do about this? We should be making plans?"

"Yes, Kate, yes, _we_ should. And as soon as dinner is over, _we_ will make plans. _You_ will go to bed, or watch TV, or read a book and _we_ will make plans.

"You need my expertise."

"No. _Your_ _expertise_ created this. We have no further need of _your expertise_. What we need is for you to stay put and shut up."

"You can't exclude me; it's my life we're talking about. I deserve a say."

"Like I deserved a say when you walked out. You want to talk about lives and people who deserved a say? Let's talk about Martha, Alexis, Laney, and Jenny and the kids. No, Kate, you don't get a say. You've had your say – look where it got us."

"If you hadn't interfered …."

"We've been over that; try to keep up. You're the reason we're here. You're the reason people are in danger. If you're naïve enough, or arrogant enough to believe and keep believing, even in the face of all evidence to the contrary, that you were protecting us by keeping us ignorant, then you're not as intelligent as I thought you were and you're not the good cop and good agent everyone believed you were. You're a damned loose cannon who makes Slaughter look like the epitome of stability and wisdom. No offense, Ethan."

"None taken."

"You know, Ethan, you're a good cook, but I just have no appetite. If everyone's in agreement, I suggest we retreat to the study and start making plans"

Rita hung back to talk to Kate. "You say one word about me to them, "she whispered, "and I, personally, will take you to Loksat. You were supposed to be smart enough to avoid this. Did you make any plans at all, or did you just run off like the loose cannon Castle says you are?"

Jackson came back to fetch his wife, "You coming?"

"No, I think Gina and I will sit and chat with Kate for a bit. You can read me in later."

"You sure?"

"Yes.

Rita and Gina, one on either side, escorted Kate into the kitchen. "Since Ethan was good enough to cook for us, I think we should clean, don't you Gina? Kate?"

Gina picked up a couple of plates, "Good idea. You know, when I was a kid, my sisters and I were responsible for cleaning up after meals, we had no dishwasher, so it took a while. We did a lot of talking then, cleared up a lot of problems. We decided that washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen was pretty much the reason we never needed therapy."

Kate was silent. The three women worked, Rita and Gina chatting amiably, Kate remaining stubbornly quiet.

Finally, Kate spoke up. "Rita, this really is your doing."

"Oh?"

"You pulled me into this. You told me I was the only one who could do it."

"You don't listen well, do you? You had a choice, you always had a choice. I said that, based on what I knew of you, you were the best person to do it, not the only one. There are others, not, according to my sources, as good as you, but good nonetheless. You chose to take on the job. I told you that, if you took it on, you had to keep Castle safe and out of it. How you did that was your choice."

Gina looked at both of them, aghast.

"Both of you are idiots. Rita, I can probably excuse you because you don't know Castle very well. But Kate, really, how long have you known him? Eight years? You've worked with him for eight years. You've been his lover for how many? His wife for this last year? And you still don't know him." She shook her head. "You say pull, he pushes. You say walk, he runs. He's Pandora, for God's sake – you tell him to leave the box alone, he's going to open it. He's stubborn, irrepressible and _He. Cannot. Be. Controlled_. I've been his publisher since he started writing. I was his wife for a time. I know him. I know who and what he is. And that will not change." She sighed. "Kate, did you think he would change? Did you think that he would suddenly become compliant and malleable because you wanted him to? Did you really think you could control him just because you wanted to? _Did you think he would accept what you were doing without question or comment?!_ " She threw her arms in the air dramatically and walked away. Then she turned on her heel and walked back. "I know this is closing the barn door and all that, but really, your best course of action would have been to include him from the beginning. " She sat in the closest chair. "Well, done is done. We just have to go forward from here. And Kate, my advice to you, at this point, is _Don't. Rock. The. Boat_. If someone asks a question, answer it. Don't venture opinions. Don't give suggestions. Just answer questions and, otherwise, keep very still. You're on very unstable ground right now – with Rick, with your friends, with the police department – with just about everyone. Frankly, the best thing you can do right now is, if you believe in a deity, to start praying that no one gets hurt."

"I thought he would trust me." Kate looked at her fingernails.

Gina snorted. "Trusting you wasn't the issue – until you proved he couldn't trust you. The issue was that you didn't trust him. You don't know him and you still don't trust him. Why did you marry him?"

"I love him."

"Do you? Do you love him? Or is the Castle you love a fictional character you've built up in your mind – one you can change as desire dictates?"

Kate's fingernails became much more interesting. She had no answer.

Rita, at this point, stepped quietly out of the kitchen and the line of fire. She joined the others in the study.

"What have you figured out so far," she asked her husband in a whisper.

"We know what to do; we have to find where everyone is being held and, somehow, free them with minimum harm; and we have to find out how Loksat knew where they were and how they accessed the panic room – it's pretty certain we have a mole. Until we find that person, we can't make any real plans. It doesn't look good."

Rita looked at each person, in turn.

"Vikram." She said. "He's the only one who doesn't have anything invested in this. He's the only outsider. He's the one who's been going between Castle and Kate. And he has the skills. Then there's Anders, but we've both worked with him in the past and I trust him. And, finally, Hayley, but Anders seems to trust her, so I don't think it's her."

"I think you're right. We need to get Rick away from the group for a minute and discuss it with him. And then we need to ask Kate what she knows about him."

"Ok. You take Rick. I'll take Kate."

Rita made her way back to the kitchen where she found Kate sitting despondently at the counter. Gina was in the living room, pretending to read a book.

"What do you know about Vikram Singh."

Kate looked up, startled. "What? Vikram? He's been incredibly helpful."

"Yes, that's nice. But what do you _know_ about him?

"Why, I guess not much. He joined my old AG team after I left."

"Did you ever meet or interact with him before your team was targeted? Did you ever run into him when you were working for the AG?"

There was a long silence, then, "No."

"Not once?"

Kate shook her head, "not once."

"Ok, now, think very carefully, can you think of anyone else here, or among the hostages, or with whom you've had recent contact, who could have informed Loksat about the panic room? Anyone who had a reason to hate you or Rick?"

"There are plenty of people who hate us, but none of them knows about the panic room. At least, I've told none of them about the room. And, in any case, none of them would have known that Martha and the others were waiting there. As I understand it, that was a last minute decision."

"Hmm. Ok. If you think of anything that might point to someone in either group, other than Singh, who could be an informer, come talk to me – us."

"You and Jackson."

"All of us, except the person you suspect."

Kate nodded.

Rita met Jackson and Castle on her way back to the study. "Well?"

Castle sighed deeply. "I agree with you. Is there some way to confirm it? And how do we neutralize him without arousing suspicion?" He looked haggard.

"Jackson and I will have a chat with Vikram. You get Anders and Hailey working on a deeper background check. We don't have much time, so we need to start yesterday."

Not surprisingly, Anders' attempt to unearth more information about Vikram didn't find much. His NSA connection was as tenuous as his AG connection and the more they researched his background the more it splintered and fell away. One alias led to another and each path dead-ended. In the end all they had was smoke and mirrors – fading smoke and broken mirrors.

"That's as much real confirmation as we're going to get," was the shared opinion of Anders and Hayley. "I did, however,' said Anders,"find a lead on where your daughter and the others might be."

"Well, that's something."

"Anders, "Hayley spoke up, "Will you hack Vikram's computer? Let's see if he's left something there we can use and, possibly, route any messages he sends through your computer before they go on: and, it goes without saying, intercept any messages he receives."

Anders gave a small, smug smile. "Done and done."

Hayley looked at his screen. "And there it is; buried in garbage."


	8. Chapter 8

_Some people have accused me of being a Kate-hater. I'm not. I don't hate the character, I hate the character's actions. I want to display what I think the logical results of her actions would be. The writers of the season 8 storyline apparently have no concept of how real people act or how real emotions play out. Maybe I don't either, but I suspect I come closer than they do. Please excuse me if my ego is showing._

Vikram was gone.

Sometime during their discussion, he had left without a word to anyone.

His laptop was still in the study. Anders grabbed it and started working, but Vikram had activated a self-destruct program/virus that was working faster. "Hayley, pull my hard drive – quickly!"

Hayley reacted and managed to get it out before Vikram's virus got a foothold.

"Well, damn. I only had that computer for a month. Castle, do you have anything I can use?"

Castle, with some reluctance, produced a brand-new, never-been-used, cutting-edge laptop, still in-package and handed it over.

"Ah, excellent, top of the line I see."

"Is it compatible?"

"If it isn't, I'll make it compatible. Bollocks, the one thing we don't have is time and, even if he didn't destroy all our information, he's set us back seriously." He set to work.

"What can we do to help?"

"Nothing," Anders waved him off, "start working on how we're going to extract your people once I recover that lead."

"Good enough."

Jackson insisted on sweeping for bugs before they started. He found three and deactivated them. Then they began.

Castle was listening carefully to Jackson, Rita, and Hayley, when, suddenly his eyes widened. "Kate," he yelled. "Kate, call your father. Now!"

She looked at him as if he'd grown another head, and then comprehension dawned. She called. There was no answer.

"Damn." She looked, big-eyed, at Castle.

"We'd better hope that he's just on a bender somewhere."

"We need to find him." She rose from her chair.

"We need to find a lot of people. With any luck, he's just in bed, drunk. But we are NOT going to look for him. We have other people to find –including two children – remember?"

She sat back. "He's my father."

"And Martha's my mother and Alexis is my daughter and those two kids are, for God's sake, Ryan's and Jenny's. And Laney's supposed to be your friend. This isn't about you any more, if it ever was. I'm not sacrificing the six people we know about for the one we don't know about. And I'm not letting you go off on another wild-goose chase, endangering yourself and the rest of us." He walked off. "Gina, keep an eye on her. If she so much as moves, knock her out."

Kate mumbled something that sounded like "As if…"

Gina smirked. "Kate, don't, please don't, keep underestimating people. Especially, don't underestimate me."

Slaughter joined them. "I'm not much for plannin'. I'm more of a seat of the pants, play it by ear kinda guy, so I'll just join you two ladies." He winked at Gina. His smirk mirrored hers. "Though, I gotta say, havin' some notion of where you're goin' and what you're up against is a serious necessity if you're thinkin' about goin' off half-cocked."

Kate subsided. She had never been one for introspection, but she was finding herself thinking about herself and what she had done and why. She didn't like what she was seeing. And she couldn't pass it off with the old 'I'm not as bad as other people' routine. She was Kate Beckett, not other people. In the final analysis, she realized, answering to herself was going to be a lot harder than answering to Rick Castle or an Internal Affairs review board. She had gotten herself into a mess; she had endangered others with this mess: a mess that she couldn't get out of by herself. She was going to have to rely on other people, which rankled. Maybe her much vaunted 'independence' was why she had married late and then married a man who, in spite of his fame and wealth, she had considered safe, all show and no depth, someone she could play house with and then go back to real life. She had seriously underestimated him. Even when he had taken off to France to rescue Alexis, she had thought it nothing more than the impulsive act of a spoiled rich man. When he had stayed with her as she was standing on the bomb, she hadn't considered the depth of the man doing it, only his foolishness. Maybe, she thought, she was the one who was all show and no depth. Maybe his flightiness, his need to play, was just a cover for the real man underneath. She felt tears start and knuckled them away. Not the time for self-pity or wallowing, she decided. First she needed to do whatever they would let her do to help salvage the situation. Then she would work on fixing herself and, hopefully, saving her marriage to a man who, she realized, was worthy of her respect – and trust. She dozed off.

She slowly woke up, finding herself stretched out on the couch, covered with a light blanket. People were bustling around her as she sat up. Her eyes felt gritty, her mouth was dry. The pillow she had slept on was damp. She wondered if she had been crying in her sleep. She hoped not.

She watched the organized chaos in the living room for a time then, finding Rita in the group, she got up and walked toward her.

"What's going on?"

"Ah, the sleeper wakes. We found them."

"Do you know if they're ok? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Rita looked at her critically. "Those are the first unselfish words I've heard from you since you got here. We know they're still alive, but that's about it. I'm not sure if your help will be wanted, but I think it's going to be needed. Come with me."

Rita led Kate to the study where Jackson and Castle were in deep discussion, poking fingers at what appeared to be the blueprint of a warehouse. Castle looked up and regarded both of them without favor.

Rita turned to Kate, "Yes, Kate, he's angry with me as well. I told him how you got involved in this. I felt he should know. Jackson's not happy with me either, since I acted without his knowledge." She turned back to the men. "Kate wants to help – in whatever capacity we put her. I know you don't want it, but I think it's necessary."

Castle nodded abruptly. He reached into a receptacle on the desk and retrieved her gun and her phone, handing them both to her. "Rita, read her in. I think you'll know best how to use her." He went back to his discussion with Jackson.

Kate turned on her phone and immediately noticed a message from the precinct. She opened it and listened to the voicemail. Her father had been found. He had been badly beaten and dumped in an alley not far from his office. He was in ICU, drifting in and out of consciousness. He had held an envelope addressed to her.

She turned back to the desk, put her phone on it and pressed speaker.

"I need to get that envelope. It could be relevant." I need to see my father, she thought. She didn't say it out loud.

"It could be a trap." Jackson continued looking at the warehouse blueprint.

"Perhaps." Please, she thought, let me see my father.

Her husband was looking at her. "We could use this."

Jackson looked up, suddenly interested.

"It is, undoubtedly, a trap. They'll have people watching him; waiting for her. I can't say how many people will be there, but probably more than two – possibly one at each entrance and one or two on his floor. We'll have no way to recognize them until they make a move. Conversely, they know all of us, Vikram will have seen to that." He looked deflated. "We need more people. We need someone they don't know."

Jackson and Rita exchanged glances. She hit speed dial and walked off to talk to whoever was on the other end of the line.

A short time later, she rejoined them. "We have people. Not many, but we have them." So, what's your plan?

"We send Kate in to see her father and get the envelope. One of us, Slaughter I think, will go in with her. Do you have enough people to deploy both outside and on her father's floor?"

"Just four. I think three on the outside and one inside."

"Not as much as I'd like, but we'll make do. How soon can you get them in place?"

"As soon as you need them."

He jerked his head in a semblance of a nod.

"It's not much, but we'll have surprise on our side. Ok. Kate, get Slaughter in here."

She went off to get Slaughter.

"Rick, why Slaughter?"

"Because, Rita, he's the only one, other than you and Anders, who's not royally pissed at her. And you and Anders are needed elsewhere."


	9. Chapter 9

She looked down at her father's face. He was, for the moment, asleep. When she had first arrived, he was wakeful and had become agitated when he saw her. They had to sedate him before he could say anything. Her eyes stung and an uncontrollable lump was growing in her throat. She sighed, a deep shuddering sigh. His prognosis, according to the doctor, wasn't good. Nerve damage, brain damage: life, if he lived, in a wheel chair with constant need for nurses. She had done this. Not directly, but nonetheless, it was her fault. She closed her eyes. She had read somewhere that life was easier with your eyes closed. That was a lie. For a moment, she wished for Rick: for his arms around her, holding her tightly, comforting her. She shook it off. She had forfeited that. If it happened at all, it would not be because she needed it or deserved it, but because he gave it. And he wasn't going to give it: at least not now, not in the foreseeable future. She reached down and touched her father's cheek: feeling the stubble, the warmth and very nearly lost it. She backed away, straight into Slaughter's bulk. She was shaking. She tried to control it, but couldn't. Like Ryan, she thought. Eyes red from trying not to cry. Shaking from rage, fear, grief. What had she done? She involuntarily leaned into Slaughter who put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"We need to get the envelope." She choked on the words.

He nodded.

She leaned over her father, "I'll be back, "she whispered, "One way or another, I'll be back."

She moved to the bedside table, where they would have kept personal items and found nothing. Perhaps, she thought, it was at the nurses' station. She and Slaughter were making their way there when she saw a man she knew, a detective with the Major Crimes Division. He was walking toward her with purpose and carrying a manila envelope. At the same time, she found herself separated from Slaughter who had found himself flanked by two uniformed officers who were inexorably moving him in the direction of the elevators. The detective had a gun pointed at her, hidden under the envelope. She looked around, futilely, for Rita's agent. The detective had closed with her, he moved alongside her and whispered, "Come quietly, if you struggle or call for help, you won't be the only one hurt." She did as she was told.

The officers finally maneuvered Slaughter into an elevator and started down. As he struggled, he accidentally/on purpose managed to hit the 'stop' button with his foot. The close quarters made it difficult for the officers to act together and, conversely, easier for him. Using them against each other, he subdued them, cuffed them to the handrails, took their guns, and restarted the elevator. He exited one floor down from where he had been forced to enter, and checked the progress of the other two elevators. Both, he noted, were going down. He headed for the stairs. Fortunately few, if any people used them and his headlong dash was unimpeded. He had a pretty fair idea of where they were going and managed to arrive before they did.

He was standing in front of the elevator, gun raised when the doors opened. The detective was on the floor of the elevator, his own gun aimed at his head. The door to the other elevator opened. Slaughter turned his gun in that direction. A nondescript man walked out with his hands raised. "Well, I see you didn't need me." He chuckled. His hands still raised, he walked toward Slaughter, who backed up. The man stopped. "You're not stupid, are you." It wasn't a question. "Rita sent me." He went down on his knees. "My bona fides are in my jacket pocket." While Slaughter searched the pocket, Kate had cuffed the errant detective and brought him over to kneel facing the man. "We'd best be quick" said the man, "security will be here soon."

"What are we going to do with him? We can't leave him and we can't take him with us." Kate indicated the detective.

"Why don't we put him where my friends put his friends?" By this time three more people joined them, two men and a woman, all of them as nondescript as the first – average height, average weight, average coloring – people no one would give a second look.

"I'd like to question them, but I doubt we have time for that" Kate looked rueful.

"You're right, we don't. But they'll keep." The woman looked appraisingly at the detective as her partner got to his feet. "Once we are able to start questioning them, my bet is that this fellow" she nudged the detective with her toe, "will be the first to break – I hope he has a good singing voice. And Detective Slaughter, if you're concerned about the men you left so neatly arranged in the elevator; they're still there. I suggest leaving them. They're not real officers, just Loksat foot soldiers in borrowed finery, and of no particular value to anyone. Captain Beckett," she nodded at Kate, "if you have what you came for, we should leave now, as we all have a pressing engagement in the warehouse district."

Kate held up the envelope she had taken from her erstwhile captor. "This is it. Let me take a quick look while you find accommodations for our friend."

"You can do that in the van. We have to leave now. My associates will take care of him and follow us in your vehicle. By the way, since I don't like being called 'hey you' and neither do my friends, you can call me Anne. The boys, you can call Bill, Charlie, and Dave."

Anne was a good, if scary, driver.

The envelope contained pictures of Alexis and Martha looking defiant: Jennie trying to hold it together for her kids: and Laney. There was little, that she could see, of practical value – except it gave a picture of the inside of the room in which they were being held and they were date and time stamped. From this Kate determined that the windows were oriented on the east and west and that the prisoners were in the same large room but being kept well apart. Martha, she noted, looked haggard and unwell. She handed the pictures to Slaughter without a word.

"Gonna be a bitch getting' them out in one piece. I figure two, maybe three, people in the room, positioned in the center to cover the whole setup. Anne, we got medical backup? It's a cinch we're gonna have wounded."

Kate nodded agreement.

Anne glanced at the photos as she drove. "Back of the van, computer setup, already set to send to Rita and Hunter. Scan those in and send them along with your observations. I'll call for medical."

Kate was on it.


	10. Chapter 10

_This chapter is pretty brutal. I don't think it's my best, but here it is._

The minute she entered the van, Alexis, like all the others was given an injection after which she lost consciousness.

Like the others she woke later with no idea of how much time had passed or where she was. She woke groggy, bleary-eyed, fuzzy-thinking. She shook her head to clear it – a huge mistake as a fiery pain, like hot nails enveloped her. She hunkered, not eager to repeat it. She slowly raised her eyes to look around. She took stock, first of her immediate surroundings. She was in a corner – cold cement floor with a less than clean blanket under her: behind her an unfinished wall with nails sticking out. She looked up at an unfinished ceiling with cobwebby rafters, chains with hooks on the end, and bare light bulbs, about two-thirds of which were burned out. She let her eyes follow the window line down to the end of the wall, across the end, up the other side, and across again. The windows had been painted over, but there were areas that were peeling and from the angle and clarity of the sunlight coming through on the far end, she determined that it was early morning – she conclude that she was at the northwest end of the building. It was a small storage building she guessed, about 1500 square feet. She gave a small, experimental shake of her head; the pain was diminishing somewhat. She continued her reconnoiter: large, sliding, double metal doors at either end and small, human-sized metal doors inset into them. She looked to her right – there was Gram, huddled up in the corner and looking at her miserably. To her left, Laney was, apparently checking the place out like she was. Looking across the room, she saw Jenny, less concerned with where they were than with the welfare of her children. In the middle of the room, there were three armed men whose eyes scanned their segments of the room every few minutes. She was, she noticed with some surprise, not bound; neither were the others. Their captors, it appeared, didn't think they were much of a threat.

One of the men noticed that the prisoners were awake and signaled the others. One of them left the group and made a circuit of the warehouse, stopping by each hostage to toss a bottle of water at her. Even Jenny got only one bottle, as if her kids were not considered part of the equation. He stopped at Alexis last and leered at her.

"Sweet cheeks, when this is over, I might just let you live – for a little bit – depends on how happy you make me."

She stared at him, memorizing every angle of his face: every nuance of his body language. When this was over, his continued existence, at least pain-free, was in serious doubt. She said nothing. Her eyes communicated everything. He laughed and moved on.

She and Laney looked at each other. Without speaking, they seemed to reach an understanding.

Hours passed. Jenny had given her kids her water and all of them dozed fitfully. At one point, one of the men made the circuit again, taking each one of them, in turn, to use a disgusting toilet. Jenny asked for water, food, and clean clothing for her kids. The men laughed at this, although, at the next water distribution, they did give her three bottles.

Alexis looked at the windows again. The sun was angled sharply through her window. It was a couple of hours, she guessed, from sunset. Her eyes fell on her grandmother, who was looking sick and gray. She couldn't take it. She got unsteadily to her feet and started toward her. Martha saw her and started shaking her head, waving her off. Alexis ignored this. She was about 10 feet from her when one of the men, the leering one, was on her.

"Uh-uh, honey, Bozo no-no" He grabbed her hair, jerked her around, and hit her sharply on the jaw with the butt end of his weapon. He let go of her hair and she went down. The pain was so great, she couldn't even cry out. Tears started involuntarily and she felt and tasted blood. She involuntarily pulled herself into fetal position. He reached down, grabbed her hair again and pulled her back to her corner, nearly tossing her onto the blanket. She scrabbled backwards into the wall, glaring at him, tears falling, nose running.

As this happened, one of the other men walked toward him as if he thought backup was needed, Jenny's kids started to cry, distracting the third man. Laney rushed him and tackled him, knocking him off his feet. She managed to get his weapon and hit him straight in the nose with the butt. The second man, hearing the commotion in back of him turned, bringing his gun up. He and Laney fired at the same time. His bullets hit Jenny who had positioned herself between her children and the combatants. Laney hit him.

Meanwhile, Alexis, impelled by adrenalin, launched herself at leering man, taking him by surprise. Without thinking, she grabbed his gun and shot him in the face. Martha had, by this time, found her way to Jenny's corner and taken charge of the kids: pulling them into her lap, hugging them fiercely, keeping Sarah Grace from looking at her mother.

Laney moved to the corner where Martha held the children and started methodically checking them over. Alexis lurched, fell to her knees, pulled herself up and, in fits and starts, stumbled in their direction.

"Graa.." She groaned, trying to talk.

Laney looked up, momentarily, from her assessment of the others, "damn, girl, don't even try to talk. That bastard broke your jaw."

Alexis shook her head, "Jeey" she attempted to say Jenny's name. She slowly sank to the ground, finding herself leaning on her grandmother's shoulder. She closed her eyes: wishing the pain would stop, wishing she could sleep, wishing everything would just go away.

Noise from outside brought her to herself. She opened her eyes and reached for the weapon. Pulling herself into a sitting position, she noticed that Laney was similarly alert. Her grandmother was moving behind them, taking Sarah Grace and her brother with her.

Shooting, she thought, shooting and shouting. She thought she heard her father and Hayley. She watched the door on the far end; Laney watched the door on their end. Their weapons were ready.

The door at the far end opened. A man entered, silhouetted in the door. She and Laney raised their weapons.

The first thing Ethan noticed when he entered the building was the smell of blood and the bodies of three men lying on the floor. The second thing he noticed was two women aiming guns at him and a third woman hovering protectively over two children. The third thing he noticed was Jenny. "Damn" he said softly, then, "Don't shoot", he walked forward about 10 feet then put his gun down. "It's Ethan Slaughter. I'm going to get you out of here." His eyes wandered over them. Laney, unhurt, was covered with dirt, blood, and what looked like bits of brain. Alexis, spacy from pain and shock, was almost unrecognizable under blood, dirt, tears, and mucous. The children were in shock, but unhurt. Most alarming was Martha. She wasn't physically injured, but her eyes looked unfocussed, her skin was gray, and her lips had a bluish tinge. As he watched, her eyes rolled up and she passed out. "Oh, shit." He pulled out a phone and hit speed-dial. "Anne, medical, NOW!" He leaned in toward Martha. "Laney, get the kids. Alexis, can you walk?"

Alexis shook her head.

"Ok. Lanie, through that door." He indicated the one next to them. "Get the kids out there, I'll stay here with Alexis and Martha. As soon as Anne shows, come back for Alexis." He looked at Jenny. "If you see Ryan, don't say anything."


	11. Chapter 11

_Sorry it took a little time to get this done. My computer died and I had to get a new one, buy and install a word-processor, the whole thing. It took some time. Anyway, here's the next installment._

Once the hostages were out of danger, the operation took on the look and feel of a mop-up action. Castle had already told Ryan to follow the injured to the hospital while he and the others did a sweep through the area to see if they could flush out more than they already had.

It was disappointing. The confrontation had been quick and dirty, but hadn't yielded anyone who had real information or authority. It had all the appearances of a red-herring, a deception designed to keep their attention from other, more important activities. It also served as a very graphic warning as to what would happen if they continued their pursuit.

This rankled Castle. Their families and loved ones had, essentially, been used in a bait and switch tactic, a distraction. They had been told, in no uncertain terms, that these people, so important, so vital to them, were no more than disposable things to be used as object lessons as far as Loksat was concerned.

He was still angry with Kate, and this anger was deep-seated and unforgiving. But the rage now encompassed Loksat. He would find and dispose of them, with no more care than they had given his mother and daughter.

He knew that he had set himself a difficult task, probably impossible, but he had some things that Kate had lacked: his connections in MI6, the CIA, and organized crime: the active participation of those who cared about him: the absolute knowledge that he was a very small firefly confronting a near-monolithic evil. There was some sense of serenity in all this.

Kate came up beside him as he was thinking his dark thoughts. He glanced at her, barely acknowledged her presence, and did not speak to her.

Anne and her team had taken charge of the few captives they had acquired, including those from the hospital, and were transporting them to an undisclosed location for interrogation. They had promised to get back to Castle with any information they found.

Castle and his people, he hesitated to call them a team, but they had certainly acted as one – and he, grudgingly, included Kate in this – were meeting back at the loft. Before he met with them, though, he wanted to go to the hospital and find out what everyone's status was. Kate wanted to go with him, but her brushed her off.

He found Ryan at Jennie's bedside. She was alive, though barely; Ryan looked about as bereft as a man could look.

"Ryan?"

Ryan didn't look up.

"Ryan."

He finally looked at Castle. "What?"

"Your kids? Are they ok?"

"Physically, not bad – dehydrated, in shock. They'll keep them overnight just to be sure. Jennie, though – Jennie – she's not ok. Doc says brain damage. If she wakes up at all, she'll never be able … "He choked.

Castle looked at his feet and sighed a deep, quavering sigh. "Look, buddy, I'm sorry I got you into this. I'm sorry I got Jennie and the kids into this. We're meeting at my place tonight, but I don't expect you there. You stay here and take care of your family. They're what's important now. And if you need anything…." He trailed off.

"Castle, I'd like to say don't blame yourself for this. I'd like to say I made the choice of my own free will. But it's hard not blame someone and you're here and Loksat isn't and … Beckett isn't. And … I don't want to think about how much of this is my doing."

The two men were silent for a long time. Then Ryan spoke, "Jennie's not coming home. She's not going to be able to be a mother to our kids anymore. If she lives, it'll be like this" He indicated the comatose woman. "If she doesn't live … well, that would almost be better, wouldn't it. Either way, I have two kids. I can't be a cop and a father. I was already thinking of quitting, but this has made the decision for me. I can't be a good cop and a good father."

Castle was silent. Then he said, almost abstractedly, almost in a whisper, "Yeah, it's not the kind of work that goes with family life, is it." He turned to leave. "Ryan. When things have settled, when you're able to think about things again, talk to me. I have an idea – but only if you want it. I won't ever push anything on you, you know that. But I have an idea."

Ryan nodded and went back to watching his wife, Castle forgotten.

Castle went to his mother's room next. Seeing her lying there, haggard, drawn, gray and _old_ , hit him hard. She hadn't been injured, but the ordeal had been too much for her. He cursed himself for a fool. He should have just let Kate go her own way. He should not have followed her into danger, dragging his mother and daughter with him. He should have filed for divorce. He should have ….. Too damned many should haves.

He was holding her hand in both of his when one of the residents came in. "Ah, Mr. Castle, is it? Well, I have some good news about your mother's condition. She looks much worse than she is. She's dehydrated, of course, and somewhat in shock. The worst of it is that she's had a mild heart attack. She should recover, almost completely. There'll be some caveats on her activities for a time, but there's no reason she shouldn't be able to resume her normal life eventually. In fact, I think she'll be ready to go home in a couple of days." The doctor looked oddly pleased with himself, as if it was, somehow, his accomplishment, and turned to checking readings and making notations on her chart. Castle had been dismissed. He stepped over to the bed, bent down, kissed her on the forehead. "Love you, Mom. I'll back soon."

His last stop was Alexis' room.

She was asleep. She looked tiny, vulnerable, and so very young. Her head was swathed in bandages. What wasn't covered with gauze was bruised – the colors were horrible – black, purple, red. He knew that if she could open her eyes, they would be blood red. He went to the end of the bed, wanting to get a look at her chart. He was no expert, but he had done enough research for his Derek Storm novels to be able to get the gist of what was written. He mumbled to himself as he read. "Hmm, maxillary-mandibular, orbital socket …" What it came down to was that her right jaw, cheek, and eye socket were fractured. She had lost several teeth and there was the possibility of partial loss of vision in her right eye. She was scheduled for surgery as soon as she was deemed stable enough.

He was putting the chart back when he heard movement behind him. He turned to find a young woman whose name tag read 'Dr. Washburn'.

"Are you family?" She regarded him accusingly.

"I'm her father."

"Oh, good! We need someone to give consent to surgery. She may be an adult, but she's in no condition. I know you've looked at her chart, though you shouldn't have. Do you understand what you've read there?"

"I got the gist of it. What's the surgery going to entail?"

"Realignment and reconstruction of fractured bones. Basically what's required to get her functioning normally. We want to get her healthy before we do anything cosmetic – and that _will_ be needed. She'll need dentures or implants, but that will come later. She'll also need an ophthalmologist, of course. But all of this comes after we rebuild her bones."

"Will you be doing the surgery?"

"I'll be assisting. Dr. Simon Rivers will be doing the actual surgery. He _is_ one of the best."

"And when will this be?"

"As soon as you give consent and an operating room opens up. She's stabilized sufficiently to minimize the risk."

"Where do I sign?"

She led him out to the nurses' station where she retrieved some paperwork and handed it to him. "Please read it carefully. We'll need you to sign and date here and here, and initial here and here." She pointed to the different lines. "You can give your insurance information to the charge nurse. Normally, you'd do that at admitting, but since you're already here, we can take care of it."

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. He needed something to counter the pressure he felt building inside. He had a sudden desire for a very large glass of Scotch.

After several minutes of dealing with the bureaucratic minutiae required by the hospital, he found himself free. He went back to Alexis' room and spent a good bit of time looking at her. He was afraid to touch her for fear of causing pain. Finally, he picked up her left hand, the one unencumbered by tubes and monitors and held it for a moment before lifting it to his lips for a kiss. "Pumpkin, I don't know how, but I'll make this right. I don't think you know how much I love you and how much it hurts seeing you like this. I'll be back – as soon as I can."

He left the room quietly, nodded to the nurses, and got into the elevator.

He wasn't alone.

He felt the hardness poking him in the ribs and knew it was a gun.

He heard the voice saying, "If you cooperate, we may let your family live."

He cooperated.


	12. Chapter 12

He let them lead him, without struggling, to a generic black van with blacked out windows (wasn't there, he wondered, some sort of law about tinted windows and just how dark they could be? If so, this vehicle was in clear violation. He figured if _he_ was going to break the law in big ways, he'd be extra careful to obey them scrupulously in small ways).

He found himself sitting across from Ryan who had been handcuffed just as he, himself, was being handcuffed.

"How did they get you?"

"I was getting coffee. The vending machine was out of order, so I was going to the cafeteria. Then I was going to check on the kids."

The men lapsed into silence.

Castle looked around the interior of the van. It was bare bones – no padding, no lining, just a skeleton of a van covered by a metal exterior. The seats that he and Ryan occupied were little better than the fold-down seats in military planes – shallow metal baskets attached to the wall by a hinge. He tried the cuffs. They had been welded to the frame of the van and offered little give and no comfort. He hoped the ride wasn't going to be long. The driver proved to be skilled at hitting every bump and pothole between where they had been and where they were going. It was hard to concentrate on how many times they stopped and what the sounds were like and soon he gave up. He finally decided that they were heading to one of the areas that had a high number of abandoned buildings, like the one in which they had found Alexis and the others. He looked briefly at Ryan, who appeared just as uncomfortable and unhappy as he was.

"Ryan. I want to see my daughter again. I want my family back. Somehow, some way, I'm going to make that happen."

Ryan looked at him with a grim smile and nodded, "Me, too."

The van came to a stop. When the door opened, Castle ventured a look out and realized that they were in small warehouse or large barn of some sort. As their captors unlocked the cuffs and pulled them to their feet, Castle tried hard to ignore the searing pain that shot through his shoulders and arms. He listened, sniffed, and looked. There was no traffic noise, the place smelled like moldy hay and animal excrement. It looked like an industrial barn, a place where animals had been warehoused while they waited slaughter. Castle was not reassured.

They were led into adjoining pens. Forced to sit on the ground next to a pole, Castle felt his arms being pulled back into a less uncomfortable version of his position in the van. He was cuffed to the pole back to back with Ryan. His feet were pulled out in front of him and cuffed together and then chained to the opposite wall. Their captors left

"Hey, what about water or food … or a bathroom break?" He called after them. He was met with silence. Except for the two of them, the building was now empty.

"Ryan, I suspect they don't intend keeping us here for long."

"Yeah, I got that feeling."

"Ok, my back right pocket – can you reach it?"

Ryan fumbled for a bit, then said, "Can you move your hand up or to the side a couple of inches? And what am I supposed to be groping you for?"

"Something they missed – a long, flat, coiled wire. It can be used as a lock-pick."

"Great. Do you know how to use it, because I don't?"

"No, but how hard could it be?"

Ryan sighed, but kept groping. He finally managed to get his hand on it and pulled it out, He got it into Castle's hand. "Ok, do your damnedest."

"Space is a little cramped, so it'll take some time."

"Looks like that's all we have right now."

Castle struggled to find the end of the wire and straighten it sufficiently to get into the keyhole on his cuffs. Then the problem was to actually find the keyhole. He wondered if it would be better to use it as a saw than as a pick, but, he reasoned that would take as long, if not longer, as just finding the damned hole and manipulating it until something clicked. When Slaughter had demonstrated this to him, he'd made it look so damned easy. After what seemed like an eternity of blindly poking and prodding and getting some increasingly irritated "ows" from Ryan, he managed to, purely accidentally, get the wire into the keyhole. Another eternity passed as he worked the wire around inside the lock mechanism, trying, with growing frustration, to achieve the much desired 'click'. The 'click' came just as the door opened and four people walked in. One of them was Kate.

He relaxed and dropped the wire.

"Ok, bitch, you choose. Which one stays here with you and which one gets to go home?"

Castle sat very still.

Ryan was equally still

"Ryan. Ryan goes home."

Castle closed his eyes and prayed to a deity that he only occasionally believed in that they would not notice that his cuff was unlocked.

They didn't.

The secured Kate where Ryan had been and escorted Ryan to the barn door. Castle could only hope that he was being taken back to the hospital where he could be with his wife and kids.

"Ryan. Alexis will be getting out of surgery. Please, would you check on her? Tell her I'm going to be ok?"

Ryan rubbed his wrists and nodded. He looked miserable.

They four left. Castle and Beckett were alone together.

"Kate. Thanks for making it Ryan."

"I hope I redeemed myself, a little."

"It's a start." He paused, "We both need redemption, I think. I'm sorry about what I said about your father – you know his drinking and all. It was a pretty low thing to do."

"You were angry."

"Still am, but it's no excuse."

"I'm sorry, too. But you have to understand … "

"Kate, stop. You can't do that, it's a non-apology. Alexis once asked me why boys did that. Did something awful, like breaking promises, then tried to justify themselves and make it seem, somehow as if the person they hurt needed to apologize for being hurt. She wanted to know why they couldn't just say 'I'm sorry'. You know, it's not just a 'boy thing', it's a human thing. It's something I've done and I try not to do and it's something you do. Kate, just say you're sorry. Don't try to justify what you've done."

Kate said nothing for a long time.

Then she said. "I'm sorry, Rick. I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I'm sorry I hurt people that you love, that I love, I'm sorry they were harmed by what I did. If I could undo it, I would. But I can't and I'm sorry. I'm so damned sorry."

He found her hand and, briefly gripped it.

"Now," she said, "let's get the Hell out of here. In my back right pocket … "

"Already done." He shook his unlocked cuff open, re-acquired his wire, and started to work on her cuffs.

"Rick, in my back right pocket. They missed it. It's a master key."

"Beckett, I could kiss you."


	13. Chapter 13

_I have absolutely no understanding or information about how the intelligence community works, it being largely unavailable to people who don't belong. So please accept this as what it is - a flight of fancy. And for those of you who are concerned that Kate will be too easily forgiven - remember, they're in a situation; it behooves them to work together to get out of it._

The master key made quick work of the locks. Castle stretched, feeling both pain and relief as he unkinked muscle and tendon.

"Now what? Unless you were able to smuggle in a gun or knife that they overlooked, we're still in a less than tenable position. And, unless they're extraordinarily unobservant, I find it a little questionable that they accidentally overlooked both my lock-picking wire and your key. I mean, I hate to look a gift Kate in the mouth, but it just seems too … pat."

"That thought occurred to me, too. We'll just have to take extra care."

"I wonder what the game is? Shoot us as we escape? Follow us to – where? Have us die of unrequited curiosity? Given the situation, maybe they expect us to kill each other."

They were working their way around the area – searching for clues, weapons, points of egress. And listening, always listening, for voices, things that went bump, anything that would give a hint about locations and numbers. As Kate worked the edges, Rick cast back and forth across the area. Abruptly he came to a stop and started slowly circling. "Kate." He spoke quietly, "Come here."

"What is it?"

"Trapdoor." He pointed. "It's pretty well obscured by hay and dirt." He used his wire to test the edges, it fit snuggly between the door and the floor. "It's possible that they don't know about it. Unlikely, though." He worked it in an attempt to get some sort of purchase so he could lift the door. Kate stopped him.

"I think I get what you're thinking, but, if they don't know about it and we disturb it … ." She cocked her head.

"Mmmm, I think we should risk it. I'm reasonably sure that they want us to make an attempt at something. This may, or may not, be it. If we check it out and don't use it, we've lost nothing. If we use it, we still lose nothing because it will still be the best alternative." He lifted it. "Hmph, we need a light. You wouldn't happen to have a phone that they overlooked, would you?"

"No." She snorted. "But … wait a minute." She walked back to the wall and picked up what looked to be an old flashlight. It dented and rusty and the glass lens was cracked. She twisted the bottom off and checked inside. "Batteries. Now, do they work." She pressed the button on the side. It gave off a feeble, flickering, uncertain light. She walked to Rick and handed it to him.

He took it and nodded, "another suspiciously fortuitous circumstance." He handed it back to her.

"You know, if we spend too much time trying to figure out what they know and don't know, we'll be here forever."

"You're right. But just … let me think."

"Castle … ?"

"I know, Kate, I know." He walked over to the door where their captors had exited, looked at it briefly, then signaled Kate. "Lift it, wait thirty seconds, drop it." He mouthed, "Then get over here," He pointed to the other side of the double door. He moved slightly away from the door to a position where he would be unseen by anyone coming through, but still able to intercept them quickly. In the course of his search, he had found a piece of rusty pipe; he now hefted it and waited. Kate lifted the door, waited the requisite time, dropped it and ran as quickly and quietly as she could to the double doors where Castle waited. She took up station, similar to his, flashlight in hand, on the other side.

It didn't take long. Three men came through the doors. The one in the lead directed the others to either side of the barn to keep a lookout. He went straight for the trapdoor.

Castle nodded abruptly at Kate. Almost as one they were on the guards, knocking them out and taking their guns. The man at the trapdoor turned to them, smiling, with his hands up. "Castle. You're either good or lucky." He took a step toward them. Both Castle and Beckett cocked their weapons. He waved a hand. "No need for that. "There was a pause. "The way I see it you have two choices. You kill me and leave – because killing me is the only way to postpone pursuit long enough for you to escape. Then this just prolongs this little war between you and us. More people hurt, more people dead – and in the long run, nothing gained. Except, in the long run, we'll win: because we have the resources and you don't and the CIA and the AG can't do anything overt or, really, effective – at least not for the foreseeable future."

Kate started to speak. Rick waved his hand at her, hushing her. "Go on."

The man Castle had dubbed 'Trapdoor Guy' smiled and continued. "Or I take you to my partner and we … talk. You can keep the guns."

Kate lifted her gun, getting ready to pull the trigger. Castle grabbed her hands and pushed them down. "No, Kate. I want to get to the bottom of this. I think talking is the best way."

"We can't trust him, Castle"

"Trust _me_ , Kate. Not him, _me_. Trust that I know what I'm doing."

She looked at him in disbelief. The look on his face made her pause. She again faced the realization that she knew very little about her husband. She had taken him at face value – as a wealthy dilettante and had all too frequently disregarded his, to her surprising, displays of competence and depth. She released the hammer on her gun and put it in her jacket pocket. Castle smiled. He pointed his gun at the floor and signaled 'Trapdoor Guy' to precede them.

"What's your name? Or, at least, what are you calling yourself? I can't continue to refer to you as 'Trapdoor Guy'." He had, by this time raised his gun barrel and had it, very gently, pressed against the man's right kidney.

"For your purposes, my name is Cobb."

They walked in the direction of another generic black van. They did not stop at the van, however, but went another ten feet to a medium-sized, late-model, gray sedan that had been hidden behind the van.

Castle held out his hand for the keys.

"You don't know where to go, I do."

"I get that. you drive, Kate and I are passengers. Just humor me. Kate, keep an eye on him, if he twitches, shoot him – just not to kill."

Castle did a careful exterior survey of the car, checking underneath, the wheel wells, under bumpers and fenders – everywhere anything could be hidden. He then opened the trunk and searched, in the process he disabled the rear camera. He looked at Cobb who looked uneasy. He went to the front of the car and opened the hood. When he knew Cobb couldn't see him, he fiddled with some connections; he then tossed the keys to Cobb, "Unlock the doors and open all of them."

Cobb complied. Castle then began a complete examination of front and back seats. Again, in a position that was out of Cobb's sight, he did some more fiddling, then, with a satisfied smile, signaled Kate into the back seat. He took the front passenger seat as Cobb got into the driver's seat.

"You're very thorough, Castle. What did you hope to accomplish with that search? Did you think I had a bomb in the car? I'm hardly suicidal."

"I write thrillers for a living. Sometimes I get into it."

The drive took a good two hours. The route was roundabout and involved considerable backtracking. Castle seemed unconcerned. Kate, however, was monitoring every turn, street, and alley in an attempt to get some notion of where they were going.

When they arrived, Cobb drove into a parking garage and parked well toward the rear. He got out and looked at Castle expectantly, Castle regarded him with a Mona Lisa smile. Cobb shrugged and moved around to the passenger side. While he was opening the door for Kate, Castle reached into his pocket and removed an iPhone – one that had, hitherto, been in the glove compartment. He pushed a sequence of buttons then slipped it back into his pocket. The battery charge was less than 50%. He hoped it would be enough.

Cobb opened the door for him as Kate held her weapon on him.

They walked, single file, toward an elevator: Cobb in the lead, Castle covering him, Kate taking rear guard.


	14. Chapter 14

The elevator opened onto the 13th floor – a floor that didn't exist as far as the floor numbers were concerned.

Castle commented on this, a snarky comment about superstition.

They walked into a large, plain foyer. There was an unmanned reception desk directly opposite the elevator.

Castle and Beckett flanked Cobb as they walked to the door behind the desk, Castle's gun gently pressed against his kidney, Beckett's aimed at the back of his neck.

"Castle, are you sure this isn't a trap?"

"I'm almost certain it is. But then everything we've been dealing with has been nothing more than a series of traps. The question shouldn't be whether this is a trap or not, but who is being trapped?"

She looked at him, both curious and exasperated.

"Come on, Kate. Whether you like it or not, we're committed. Isn't this what you wanted? To find Loksat?"

"I didn't want to die in the process."

"You could have fooled me. And neither one of us is going to die _if you just trust me and follow my lead_."

She looked rebellious. "Do I even know who you are, Castle?"

"Probably not. Everything you've done the past few months leads me to think you don't. In any case, it's time for you to shut up and be on the alert. We can deal with our personal issues when this is over."

They entered the room, a large, well-appointed office. A man that Castle recognized was seated behind a large, sleek mahogany desk which held a phone and a closed laptop.

"Mason Wood. This is a surprise."

"It was meant to be."

Castle looked around. "Any more surprises?"

"Probably. You know I can't let you leave. At least, not alive."

Castle nudged his gun a little more deeply into Cobb's back. "We die, he dies."

Wood shrugged. Beckett pulled her gun away from Cobb's neck and pointed it at Wood. "We die, you both die. You may not value his life, but I'll bet you're fond of yours."

"Detective Beckett, I don't think you've thought this through. You're in my office: my territory. I'm surrounded by my people. They may not be loyal to me, but they certainly are loyal to my money. And I pay them a very great deal of it."

Kate started to say something but Castle cut her off. "Kate, now is not the time for one of your righteous speeches. They do, sometimes, get a little annoying." He moved a couple of steps to his left, pulling Cobb with him. "I guess what we have here is a Mexican stand-off."

"That's such an insensitive term, Rick. And, no, I don't think that's what we have at all." He pushed a button on his desk phone and smiled.

Nothing happened.

He pushed again.

Again, nothing happened.

He stopped smiling.

"I guess you're right, Mason, that's not at all what we have."

The door behind them opened. Slaughter barreled through, followed by Esposito, Anders and the rest of the MI6 and CIA contingent. Cobb and Wood were quickly taken into custody and cuffed.

Wood was, once again smiling. "It's not over, Rick. It'll never be over."

"And why not? We have you and you are Loksat, aren't you."

"Am I? Maybe, maybe not." He and Cobb were marched out of the office, leaving Kate, looking confused and annoyed, with Rick who was looking quizzically at the captive pair.

"Castle, he was just saying that to get to you. It's over."

"Was he, Kate? If there's one thing I've learned, nothing is ever, really, completely - over." He gave her a basilisk look. "Let's go. We still have a lot to do."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"How did they know where we were?"

"Kate, you're an NYPD detective; you've worked for the AG's office; you've even worked cases with both the FBI and the CIA. What do YOU think?"

"They searched us Castle, they'd have found bugs or tracking devices."

"Yes, they would have, if either of us had had any on us. But neither of us did. At least I know I didn't."

"Then how?

"They gave it to us."

She threw her hands up in irritation.

"Think, Kate."

She sighed and glared at him, then her face lit as it dawned on her. "The car."

"Right. Late model, top-of-the-line. It has on-board GPS, Wi-Fi and Bluetooth capability. The iPhone I found in the glove compartment was a bonus – made it easier to jury-rig what I wanted. And Cobb, like a lot of people … like you …, underestimated the "writer guy".

By this time, they were at street level. Castle put Kate in Hayley's car and instructed her to take Kate to the loft.

"Wait, Castle, where are you going? Aren't you coming with us?"

"I've got some things to take care of. I'll meet all of you back there."

"All of us?"

"All of us." He shut the door and slapped the car. Hayley took off.

Castle looked around for Rita. Finding her, he strode quickly toward her, heading her off before she could get into her vehicle. "Rita, I need you to take me to the hospital."

"Something wrong?"

"With me? No. I just want to check on my mother and daughter before I go back home. And – we should talk."

"I guess we should."


	15. Chapter 15

Rita, while acknowledging that they needed to talk, was in no hurry to actually 'talk'. Castle didn't push it. He was really more concerned with the status of his mother and daughter. He would check in with them and, if possible, their doctors. After that he could have his discussion with Rita. So they drove in silence.

When they got to the hospital he took the keys from Rita. He hated that current events had made him so paranoid, however, he was having trouble trusting anyone, even his father's wife – especially his father's wife.

"Why don't you go to the coffee shop? I don't know how long I'll be, but as soon as I finish, I'll meet you there. Then we can chat."

Rita nodded.

He stopped in the gift shop. He would not see his girls empty-handed. Soon, theater magazines in one hand for Martha and a teddy bear in the other for Alexis (hospital gift shops did not, it seemed, carry the Harvard Law Review), he made his way to their rooms.

He looked in on Martha first. To his relief, she was awake and sitting up. Her color had improved and it looked like she had put on some make-up. He smiled. If her vanity was intact, then she was going to be fine. Shortly after he sat down to talk with her, her doctor came in – almost as if he had been waiting for him.

"Hello, Mr. Castle."

The doctor's report was short and sweet. He spoke primarily to Martha though he did include Castle. As he pointed out, at this point, while she was physically compromised, she was still mentally sharp.

"So, Mrs. Rodgers, we'd like to keep you overnight. If things continue to go as they are, we'll release you tomorrow and, except for some minor alterations to your routine, you should be able to go on as usual."

"Minor alterations?" Martha and Castle asked, almost in unison.

The doctor smiled benignly. "Yes, minor. Some changes in diet, living arrangements, social behaviors…"

"Social behaviors?" Martha looked suspicious

"Well, yes. I understand you're an actor, so your job requires that you keep a rigorous schedule and late nights. That's not necessarily a bad thing – as long as you observe some rules – eat properly, get plenty of rest, moderate exercise, moderate alcohol intake – things like red wine – not hard liquor. Basically, moderation in everything – including social activities. Most importantly, though, for the foreseeable future I don't think you should live alone."

Castle mock-cringed. "Well, mother, it looks like I'm stuck with you for a few months."

Martha glared at him, then laughed. "It could be worse, I suppose. At least I can still work."

The doctor rose and shook hands with both Castle and Martha and, leaving his card with Martha (along with a none too surreptitious wink), walked out of the room.

Martha looked at the card and smiled. "That old faker, he left me his private cell number. He has to be at least ten years younger than I am."

"Tell you what mother, I'll bring some of your cards when I come back tomorrow – you can give him one. Now, I have yet to see Alexis. I'll drop by after and let you know how she's doing."

"Thank you, dear. I must really get some beauty sleep. When you get back, if I'm asleep, wake me, please."

Alexis, he discovered, was still in recovery which was one floor up.

He paused outside the recovery room door and looked in. The only thing that indicated that the slender white lump under the thin blanket was Alexis was a stray strand of red hair. He continued into the room. He noted the tubes and wires emanating from her body. She was breathing on her own, there was an IV bag of Ringer's but no bags of blood; essentially she was stable and just being monitored. He looked at the computerized monitor over her bed – heart rate, blood pressure, respiration – all nominal. Her head was swathed in bandages. The tiny bit of her face that showed was a big bruise.

"Hey, pumpkin." He whispered. He touched her hand and very nearly started sobbing. Choking back his emotion, he backed up and went in search of a nurse or doctor who could tell him more about her status. He had just stepped outside her room when he was approached by a nurse.

"You're her father" It wasn't a question.

"Yes. Can you give me more information than I'm getting from the monitors?"

The nurse took him by the arm and walked him back into the room. "She's doing much better than It appears. She woke up, briefly, after surgery and answered questions coherently, if with a bit of slurring. The physical damage will heal in about six weeks, then we can get started on the cosmetic part of it. She's a pretty girl and, in spite of her intelligence and what I've been told is her work ethic, those looks are an important part of who she is and how she perceives herself. For her mental health, we'll try to restore them as much as possible. She may say it's not important, but it is and we'll need you to help her understand that – that she's more than brains or ambition or looks."

"The gestalt of Alexis."

The nurse looked startled, then smiled. "Yes, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts – but each part is necessary to the whole. Anyway, that's a bit down the road. Her doctor has said that we want to keep her in the hospital for a week to ten days, then she can go home. But she'll need to follow up at least twice a week until we're satisfied with her progress."

Castle nodded. "How soon do you expect her to wake up?"

"Probably not until tomorrow morning."

"Ok. I'll be back then; I have some people I need to see." He left it at that.

The nurse nodded, "I'll be on duty until six tonight. I'll be back tomorrow by nine in the morning. My name is Darrel Book and I'll be more than happy to help you with anything you need."

"Thank you." He handed the teddy bear to Darrel. "I was going to leave this with her, but I think I'll bring something she'll appreciate more tomorrow. Can you find some little boy or girl who needs this?"

"I know just the one."

There was a quick stop to tell Martha about Alexis, then he went on down to the coffee shop. He found an impatient Rita sitting near the back. He picked up two lattes, one for each of them, and sat opposite her.

"Well, Rita, here we are."

"Yes, here we are."

"I want you to tell me some things, obviously."

"She was easy, you know."

"I don't want to know how you manipulated her. That I know. She has her hot buttons, you researched them, then you used them. No, what I want to know is why." He leaned back. "Who are you really working for?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy with me, Rita. How long have you been married to my father? How long did you know him before you married him? You specifically targeted my wife. Why? You had to know about Vikram. Why didn't you say anything? Who is your real target? What is your game?"

"This is an odd place to play 20 questions, Castle."

"It's a public place, which I want right now. You aren't who you say you are. Does my father know anything about what's happening and why? Or is he as much in the dark as you want the rest of us to be?"

"Your father is my husband. Legally. And I might ask who you are. You don't have the right behaviors for a dilettante writer."

"And yet, that's exactly what I am. Don't try deflecting me, I want answers."

"You're paranoid. This whole situation has set you on edge: unbalanced you."

"Rita. Answers. Now."

She looked at him. He could almost see her mind working, trying to read him: trying to figure him out. He waited.

Finally, she said, "Fine: you win. I'll take you to my boss."

"Loksat?"

She flinched.

"Kate was the target. Kate and I and anyone with a connection to Bracken. Wood isn't Loksat, is he?"


	16. Chapter 16

"We can't discuss this in public."

"Yes, we can and we will. Wood isn't Loksat. Who is?"

"It's not that simple."

"Rita, everything is that simple. Is there one person we can call Loksat? Is there a committee? Who or what is Loksat?" He paused. "Are you Loksat?"

"Why don't you just let this go."

"I can't. Or, more to the point, I won't. You manipulated my wife into going after Loksat. Did you really expect me to stay out of it? Did you really think she would be able to keep me out of it?"

"You're not equipped for this."

"Given how much further I've gotten than Kate has, I'd say I'm pretty damned well equipped. Do you really think I just pulled Storm out of my ass? Now, let's just please stop the crap. Are you Loksat? If you aren't, do you work for Loksat? Who or what is Loksat? You know I'm going to take Loksat down or die trying, so answer my questions."

"If you die, Jackson will kill me. I mean it, he will kill me."

"Then you'd best start answering questions – truthfully. And you'd best start being a lot more helpful than you have been. Simple as that – I'm going to do what I'm going to do. You're going to keep me alive while I'm doing it, or you're going to die." He leaned back and regarded her thoughtfully.

"What the Hell are you?"

"I'm the dilettante writer guy. Let's get going."

"Where?"

"Wherever. And I still want answers. Are you Loksat?"

"No."

"Do you work for Loksat."

"Yes and no."

"Explain."

"I'm CIA, like your father. And I'm proof that people in my line of work should not have emotional attachments. I had – have – a son. Loksat has him."

"As in an actual hostage situation?"

"No, he's … vulnerable."

"Vulnerable. You endanger my wife, my daughter, and my mother because your son is 'vulnerable'."

"That statement implies that you would endanger my son because your family is vulnerable."

"My family isn't vulnerable. My family was and is in danger. A danger that didn't exist until you brought Kate into this."

"My son wasn't in danger until Beckett went after Bracken. Beckett didn't go after Bracken until you started nosing around Johanna Beckett's death. It all goes back to you. I'd see you dead in a heartbeat to protect my son, but your father wants you alive. He wants his granddaughter alive."

"How does my father figure into this?"

"Less than you. Less than Beckett. He knows there's danger to you, Alexis, and Martha, but he doesn't know the real source. Loksat is a name he knows, but he has little useful information about it. I've done my best to keep him out of the loop because, whether you believe it or not, I care about him."

There was something in her words that didn't ring true, but he couldn't put a finger on it. "What's your son's name?"

"Caleb Brown."

"Caleb Brown, the Public Defender?"

"Yes."

"I don't know whether to believe you or not. You've been lying pretty much all down the line. You've been playing both sides. Yet, you're all I really have at the moment." They had, by this time, reached the car. He motioned her to the passenger side.

"Where are we going?"

"The loft. You are going to tell everyone what you told me."

"That'll be the end of my marriage."

"It may also be the end of mine. So be it."

"You don't want to do this."

He snorted. "This is exactly what I want to do right now."

"Castle, listen…"

"No. My wife listened to you and my father listens to you, I'm not going to."

He looked, briefly, in her direction and straight down the barrel of her Glock.

"Seriously? I'm driving a car in Manhattan traffic and you've just told me that my father will kill you if I die and you're threatening to shoot me?' His voice bordered on hysterical. "Do you know how tired I am of people pointing guns at me? Do you get just how ready I am for all this to end? Do you even have a beginning of an idea of what I will do to make it all stop?" He turned and stuck his finger in the barrel of the gun. "So shoot me."

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Stared until the honking registered with them and Castle noticed a man walking toward the car.

"Either shoot me or put the gun away. There's a cop coming toward the car." She lowered the gun until it was out of sight. "put it away. Holster it. Now." She holstered it.

The police officer knocked on the window. Castle lowered it.

"Is there a problem here?"

"No officer. My," he nodded toward Rita, "mother was just trying to tell me we were going the wrong way. Could you tell us how to get to Broome and Crosby? I'm really sorry for the inconvenience."

The officer pointed down the street. "You were going in the right direction. Go straight up Broadway. It'll take you straight into Broome. Then turn right. One block will get you to Crosby. You from out of town?"

"Why yes. How did you know?"

"Lost in Lower Manhattan" He indicated Rita's car, "In a rental car and trying to get to Soho; you're tourists. Tell you what: you pull over to the curb and wait a few. I'll get the car and lead you over there."

"You sure it's no trouble, officer?"

"I'm headed back to the precinct and it's right on my way. So it's no trouble."

The officer even found a parking place for them, right in front of Castle's building.

After thanking the officer, Castle motioned Rita into the lobby, ostentatiously holding the door for her. Once inside, he took the gun from her.

"Come on Rita, time to face the music. For both of us."


	17. Chapter 17

The revelations did not sit well with the team. Most were, provisionally, ready to pardon Castle's involvement. As Lanie said, how was he to know what the repercussions of interfering in Kate's mother's murder would be. He, in all innocence, had just wanted to help Kate find closure. The results had escalated beyond his control. His fault lay in not listening to her when she had told him to back off.

Rita, on the other hand, was not so readily excused. And suspicions, once aroused, weren't easily dismissed.

Jackson Hunt sat, separate from wife and son, looking at neither and not ready to speak. The set of his shoulders spoke of anger, dejection, and guilt.

Castle also held himself apart, not as ready as the others to absolve himself of guilt. Nor was he ready to absolve Kate.

Kate stared at Castle, willing him to look at her: to, somehow, acknowledge her. Guilt weighed on her as well. She knew that Castle's forgiveness wouldn't eliminate that guilt, but it might ease it somewhat. In the final analysis, it was all down to her. If Rita had manipulated her it was because she had allowed herself to be manipulated. If Castle had unwittingly started the whole nasty business with his insistence on catching her mother's killer, she had taken the bit in her teeth and run with it beyond what was rational. She herself did not know what to do, but, she decided, whatever Castle asked of her, she would do.

Finally, Castle spoke. "I don't know how much of what Rita says is truth and how much is lie. Caleb Brown is mixed up in this, I'm sure of that, but whether as vulnerable 'hostage' or as active participant is anybody's guess. Which begs the question, is Rita trying to protect Caleb or is she working with or for him? At this point, I don't know which way to turn. Anyone have any suggestions?"

Everyone was silent.

After several minutes Anders stepped forward. "What do we know?" He began. "When in doubt, always review what is known. We know that Loksat has been leading us around by the proverbial nose and leaving a swath of dead, near dead, and injured in its wake. We know that we've been slowly working our way up their ranks. We know that, while Mason Wood was not Loksat, he was high in the organization. We know that Rita is, at the very least, connected to Loksat – whether through coercion or something else is unknown. We don't know the extent or nature of Caleb Brown's involvement, but, as Mr. Castle said, we can be reasonably certain there is involvement – I trust his instincts in that regard. While I hesitate to suggest that we lay low for a time, it may be for the best. It doesn't mean we'll be doing nothing. I think we should secure Rita Hunt and keep her under close guard. Now that I have two more pieces of information to mine, I will do a deep computer search for her." He nodded in Rita's direction, "and her son – or whatever he is to her. Jackson, I'll need your input."

Castle nodded agreement. "We're all tired and more than a little burned out. We can secure Rita in the 'maid's room'. Ethan, I know that's where you're bunking, but it's centrally located and easy to guard. I don't think that Kate or Jackson should be assigned to guard her, not because they aren't able, but because of the emotional connections involved. Ethan, if you've no objection, I'll put you on Rita guard duty first."

Slaughter smiled grimly. "No objection."

"Then let's get food and rest, not necessarily in that order. I'd suggest Scotch all around, but I don't think we need to compromise our abilities any more than they already are." He sighed, "Anders, what did you mean by 'dead'? As far as I know, except for some on their side, no one's dead."

Anders hesitated, then spoke. "Detective Ryan's wife, Jenny, died."

Castle closed his eyes. His jaw worked as he fought back tears. "Where's Ryan?"

"Under sedation, in the master bedroom."

Castle finally looked at Beckett. She was shedding the tears that he wouldn't. "We need to finish this." He spoke to no one in particular, choking on the words.

As everyone sought out food or rest, Castle went to his study. Beckett followed. "Castle…"

"Not now, Kate, soon, but not now."

She looked so forlorn that he almost relented. "Kate, you need to get some food and some sleep. I know you think you're not hungry or tired, but trust me, you need to eat and sleep. I promise you, we'll talk, but right now I have something I need to do." He went into his study and closed the door.

Kate retreated to the couch where she curled up in the corner and allowed herself to cry. She cried for Ryan's shattered life, for the shards of her life, for everyone who'd been harmed by her actions. She felt, rather than saw, someone sit next to her. When she finally looked up, she saw Gina holding a box of tissue out to her.

"Self-pity? Or something else?"

Kate sobbed into the tissue. "I don't know."

"Well, at least that's honest." Gina put an arm around her shoulders. "Don't take this as forgiveness, but maybe this is a start toward earning it. Not from Rick, necessarily, but from some the rest of us who got caught in the crossfire. You know, there are programs for alcoholics, drug addicts, gamblers – a whole host of things. Maybe there should be one for crusaders. You could be the founding member – call it Don Quixote Anonymous." Gina chuckled sadly at her sorry joke.

"Do you think anyone will ever forgive me."

"I don't know. I do know you'll have to work for it. Your father was in AA, wasn't he? Don't they have a step in the program where you have to seek out everyone you've ever hurt and apologize to them for what you've done?"

"Yes." Kate's voice shook. "You have to be specific. You can't say something like 'whatever I did to hurt you, I'm sorry', you have to tell them what you did and you can't expect forgiveness from anyone – except yourself: and I don't know if I _can_ forgive myself."

"Well, you'll have to work on that, won't you."

As the two women talked, Castle was busy with something else. He was going to take Ryan at his word – he would not be going back to NYPD. He started working on paperwork for Castle Investigations – changing the name to Ryan and Castle, Private Investigators (it had, he thought, a better ring than Castle and Ryan). He would, if Ryan agreed, make it a partnership and turn the day to day running of it over to Ryan. He then began the process of setting up an educational trust fund for the Ryan kids. He'd have Gina look over the paperwork when things were a little more settled.

Those were the two simplest things he had to do. When he'd completed everything as much as he could without legal input, he leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. Now came the hard part – Kate. How did you handle a problem like Kate?

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew there was a commotion outside the door and then loud knocking.

Anders opened the door and poked his head in. "I don't mean to disturb you, but I've found some information you're going to want to see."


	18. Chapter 18

Anders had been working non-stop for a good 6 hours. He had followed the names down blind alleys and into dead ends, but ultimately he had found what he was looking for.

Caleb Brown was the out-of-wedlock son of a teenaged mother who had given him up for adoption. Her name had been given as Margareta Jaeger.

Caleb Brown had been raised by very middle-class, very conventional parents who had died in an automobile accident when he was twenty. He had gone to college on scholarships and grants and had been accepted to and graduated from Stanford Law School. He'd passed the New York and California Bar exams and had applied for both the New York City and Los Angeles Public Defenders Offices. He was considered to be an up-and-comer by everyone who knew him. There was nothing in his financial or other dealings to indicate any extra-legal activity. He was, by all accounts, squeaky clean.

When he had first gone to work for the New York Public Defenders Office, he had been approached by Rita Hunt and told that she was his birth mother -DNA testing had confirmed a relationship.

Outside of her relationship with Caleb Brown, Rita Hunt had been much harder to track down. When Anders checked her CIA connection, he'd found a redacted file. Chasing down the file had taken a good four of the six hours he'd worked. What he'd finally found had been a burn notice. Jackson Hunt had been tasked with handling the problem.

Anders and Castle turned together and stared at Jackson expectantly.

"Father?"

"She played me, son. When I tracked her down, she managed to convince me that there was an internal conspiracy aimed at her and Caleb. Made me think I was the only person who could help her. Tried to convince me that she loved me. More fool me, I was ready to be convinced."

"She knew your weak points."

"Yes – you, your mother, Alexis… ." Hunt looked like a defeated old man for the first time since Castle had met him.

"Do you think you can finish the job?" Anders leaned against the table with his arms crossed.

Hunt straightened. "I'm going to have to, aren't I, before she and Caleb do any more harm."

"You think Caleb is implicated?"

"I think Caleb is Loksat. It all adds up. He's Loksat and Rita is his partner."

"We need to find him, then. Find him, find the truth, and end this whole thing. Father, can we…?"

"Trust me? She was responsible for putting my granddaughter in the hospital, endangering your mother, and coming between you and your wife. And she played _me_ for a fool." He looked straight at his son. "You're my son. She's the bitch who put everyone you love in danger. I _will_ put that bitch down."

Castle nodded. "And we'll take care of Caleb." He started toward the maid's room.

Anders put a hand on his shoulder. "Extreme prejudice?"

"I hate that. But, yes. Bracken ran things from his prison cell. This guy is smarter than Bracken ever was. If we let him live, we'll never be out of danger."

"Then we need to make plans."

"Yes, and it wouldn't hurt to get some rest – real rest – for all of us.

A couple of hours later, Castle, who had been dozing in his favorite easy chair, felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Slaughter standing over him. "She's gone." He whispered.

Castle signaled Anders and Hunt, who swept for any bugs Rita might have placed while everyone was resting. When they indicated everything was clear Castle asked, "Is she? Did you manage to plant a tracking device?"

"Anders gave me a few, I found places for some of them."

"Good enough."

Ryan and Kate, who were, by this time, awake, heard some of the conversation.

"You let her escape!?"

"Yes Kate, we let her think she escaped."

Kate was not happy; she wasn't entirely sure why – whether it was because they had let Rita get away or because she had not been allowed in on the planning. "What do you mean, think?"

"We aren't going to find Caleb without her help. She's not going to, willingly, help us find him. We used the only strategy that seemed workable."

Anders had returned to his laptop and was monitoring some blips that appeared on a map on his screen. One of them blinked off. "Hah, she found the one in the phone. Pretty much as we'd expected."

"Ok. We'll give her a few minutes, then follow her. Ryan, do you think you'll be able to take this on?"

"Is she responsible for Jenny…?"

"One of the people, yes."

"Then try to keep me out of it."

Rita's trail led to the Precinct.

Hunt's mouth worked. "This isn't good."

Kate had come up on his left. "I think you're right. Ambush?"

"And dirty cops."

"We already got the one."

"They're like cockroaches, you find one, there are dozens more in the woodwork." Castle was looking into her eyes. "I think it's time to call Gates."

Kate shook her head. "What if she's part of it?"

"She isn't. Gates doesn't like me and I'm not fond of her, but I trust her. She's clean. Kate, you may be in trouble with Internal Affairs when this is over. You may be out of a job. But you won't be on the run and, if I have anything to say about it, you'll still be alive."

Kate shook her head at this. She didn't want to lose her job over this, but she realized that it was probably inevitable. She was, she decided, willing to take the consequences for her actions. She was not willing to let Ryan, Esposito and Lanie deal with any more than they already had.

Esposito, joining them at the desk, seemed to know what she was thinking. "We've made _our_ choices Beckett, we're in this. You don't have anything to say about it."

Castle nodded at Esposito. "Now, we just have to figure out how we're going to do this."

Hayley had joined Anders. "Well, I'd suggest assigning jobs to start. Slaughter," she signaled him to join them. "You call Gates. Ask her for a meeting, but not at the precinct and not anywhere that cops tend to gather. Not here, either."

"Want her to come alone?"

"No. Ask her to bring people, but only people she trusts absolutely." She continued, "Dr. Parish, how is access to the precinct from your office?

Lanie looked up in surprise, she had not been expecting to be called on. "From the offices, just the elevator and the stairs. Then there's the parking lot access and the morgue and ambulance access."


	19. Chapter 19

_This is, of necessity, probably the shortest chapter. It is not the last chapter. One must, after all, clean up loose ends._

Deputy Chief Victoria Gates walked into her office and seated herself at her desk. She wished she had time to think about the meeting she'd just attended, but that was a luxury she couldn't afford. What she had thought was going to be a sit-down with Ethan Slaughter about some of his less seemly behavior had turned out to be something else entirely – something disturbing and not entirely unexpected.

Beckett had gone rogue.

And with reason. A good reason, just not a legally acceptable one. Her husband, unwilling to accept her behavior, had gone rogue right behind her. And he had taken good police personnel with him. He had also, it appeared, taken MI6, his father, and some of his other, less official, more – _extralegal_ \- friends along for the ride. The ride had become dangerous, not just to them, but the whole damned Police Department.

She was not happy.

She reached for her phone. Her hand hovered for a moment, then she picked up the receiver and punched in a number.

"Elizabeth, I have something for you." She waited, briefly, while her sister spoke, then said. "I need to tell you in person. Meet me in forty-five minutes at the 12th Precinct – Captain's office." Her sister spoke again. "Yes, I know, it's irregular, but it _is_ important. Come armed, bring backup." She hung up.

With Elizabeth on the way, Gates turned to making plans to minimize casualties and damage at the 12th precinct. More phone calls followed.

Finally satisfied that she had done what she could, she holstered her weapon and called the two officers who had accompanied her to the meeting with Slaughter.

On the way to the 12th, she made a final call. "Castle. This is Gates. I'm on my way to the Precinct. I'll be there in … "She looked at her watch. "forty minutes. Elizabeth is on her way. Let me know when your people are in position." The rest of the ride to the precinct was done in silence. She stared out the window as her driver expertly made her way through traffic. She pondered about how things might go down. She realized that the apprehension – she couldn't call it fear – that she felt was accompanied by something akin to excitement, even expectation. She remembered why she had gone into police work in the first place and wondered how she had ever let herself get away from it. She was going to take down a bad guy: not just any bad guy, but a bad guy pretending to be a good guy. She smiled.

Slaughter made sure his wire was secure then swaggered into the 12th precinct. His time in drama school was standing him in good stead. He knew just how to act like Ethan Slaughter, the brash, larger-than-life, macho, skirting the edges cop, even though he didn't feel it. He glanced around him, apparently only passingly aware of what was going on around him. He stopped at the elevator that went to Homicide, then, seeming to change his mind, took the stairs. He entered the department, unnoticed and saw what he had been looking for. He spoke very quietly, "Rita and Brown are here: so are Gates and her sister. There are about ten people here who aren't Homicide – I recognize a couple – they're from vice and cybercrime units. Vikram is one of them." He sauntered on into the room. He had a raptor's smile on his face. He was singing under his breath "Boy, boy, crazy boy. Stay loose boy. Got a rocket in your pocket. Be coolly cool boy." He glanced at the elevator, noted that it was stopping, and felt, rather than heard, people coming from the stairwell. "Go man go, but not like a yo-yo school boy." His grin grew. "Fight scene." He dropped to one knee, drawing his weapon at the same time. He noted that Gates, her sister, and their four escorts had also drawn their weapons. Rita and Brown pulled weapons and drew in behind their phalanx of dirty cops and mercenaries.

As he had expected Castle, Beckett, Jackson Hunt, and Ryan were at the front of the flying wedge that charged out of the elevator. Hayley, Anders, Esposito, and their small cadre came up behind him.

What he did not expect was for Vikram to take a flying forward roll out of the Loksat group and come up crouching in front of the Captain's office, gun drawn and pointing at Rita.

Rita opened fire.

The firefight didn't last more than 10 minutes. People on both sides were down, some would never get up again.

Jackson Hunt had charged straight for Rita. They took each other down. Gates and Elizabeth had moved in on Caleb Brown, hoping to take him alive, while Castle led the others in keeping Loksat's small army occupied.

The final count was horrendous. Of the Loksat group, all but Brown were dead. Brown was badly, possibly fatally, wounded. Vikram was down, but still breathing. Hunt was dead, sprawled across his wife's body. Nobody had escaped unscathed, even Lanie and Perlmutter were nursing minor injuries.

By the time the ambulances arrived, Lanie and Perlmutter had completed triage.

The atmosphere in the room was a strange mélange of elation, sorrow, confusion, and satisfaction.


	20. Chapter 20

Castle gimped his way down the hospital corridor, still getting used to his cane – a cane that would be pretty much attached to his left hand until the day he died. He carried a briefcase in his right hand. He knew he'd gotten off lightly. The doctors had been able to piece his shattered knee together with only a couple of surgeries and physical therapy was slowly making him ambulatory. Life as he knew it was, however, would be different – no more skiing or running or, even, brisk walks. It wasn't all gone, though – swimming and horseback riding were still available, he could even do some Yoga – if he really wanted to do Yoga. He sighed. He told himself it was worth it. Loksat was done. Caleb Brown and Rita Hunt would never be able to manipulate the system again. He knew there would be others, but _they_ were done. He paused, hefted the briefcase a bit, then limped on. He finally stopped at the door to a room: Ryan's room. He wondered if Ryan thought it was worth it.

He straightened himself and stumped into the room. Ryan's injuries had been worse. He had thought, when Ryan charged in with them, that the man was trying to get himself killed. He had been reckless, foolhardy. And his recovery had been longer and harder. He was now in the hospital recovering from a third and, one hoped, final surgery that would give some more range of motion to his left arm. The injuries had gotten him a disability retirement from the Police Force with a severance package that would, if carefully monitored, keep him and his kids comfortably if not luxuriously. His mental state was still an issue, though, and Castle hoped that what he was about to do would help with that.

Ryan was in a wheelchair, staring out the hospital window. When he heard Castle, he turned and smiled weakly. "Hey, Castle."

"Ryan. How you doing'? You're looking good, all things considered." He put the case down on the bed tray and pulled up a chair. He sank into it with a sigh of relief, stretching his injured leg.

"Alexis and Mother went to get the kids. They'll probably be here in about half an hour, maybe an hour, if traffic is bad or your sister wants to talk."

Ryan's smile brightened. His kids. They were the only reason he was still alive.

"I came a bit early because I wanted us to have a little chat," He opened the briefcase and took out a file folder. "I know everything's been sort of day-to-day right now, so I don't expect you've given much thought to life after Loksat."

Ryan grimaced. "I don't want to hear the word Loksat again, ever."

Castle nodded. "Still, I'd like to talk about what you're thinking about doing."

"Like you said, I haven't given it much thought. Too focused on getting better and getting my kids back."

Castle handed him the file. "Read the top sheet. It pretty much explains it all."

Ryan read through it quickly and then read through it again. Then he stared out the window for what seemed like an hour. Finally, looking at Castle, he said, "this is very generous, but are you sure you want to do it? My retirement and severance packages will be enough to live on. I mean, I'll take the education trusts for the kids, but the rest – are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Ryan – Kevin, you're not the kind of person who can just stay home. You need to work, to have something to occupy your mind. I need someone to run Castle Investigations, which, you will note, will become Castle and Ryan Investigations if you sign those papers."

"I don't have the money to buy in."

Castle looked at the arm and at the eye-patch covering Ryan's left eye. "You've already bought in." He continued, "You won't be running it alone. Hayley has agreed to stay on as our field manager and IT person. I haven't talked to Alexis yet, but I think she may have other plans. Well, do you need time to think about it? Or …" He let the words hang.

Ryan shook his head, then nodded, "Ok, but only if I get top billing – Ryan and Castle Investigations."

"Agreed. Now, if you'll look at this partnership agreement draft, make that change – I'll initial it – and sign – don't worry it's not binding until you sign the clean copy – I'll get it to my lawyer and he'll have it drawn up properly. Then we'll get it signed and notarized, all pretty for the attorneys."

Ryan wrote the change in, then continued reading, "50% of the profits?" He raised his eyebrows. "Ok, get a PI license, permit to carry, those won't be hard. Hmm, company car? Wait, I get to have the kids in the office with me?!"

"Not in the office so much as in the play/study rooms set up next to the offices. If you read on, you'll note that it's a daycare set-up for every partner/employee that needs it, with a certified pre-school professional in charge."

"Yeah, but I won't have to leave them with a babysitter every day, well they'll be with a sitter, but I'll be able to look in on them whenever I want." Ryan looked dangerously close to tears. He continued reading and finally initialed and signed everything he needed to. "Thanks, Castle. Nothing can ever replace Jenny for me or the kids, but this – this is helpful."

Castle extended his hand. Ryan took it and gripped hard.

There was movement and noise outside the room. A little girl darted in, followed by Alexis, carrying Hank, and Martha.

"Daddy!"

Ryan lit up as the little girl crawled into his lap and snuggled. If she hurt him, he gave no sign. Castle rose, took the papers Ryan had signed, and readied himself to leave.

"Castle, you leaving already?"

"I've been here nearly an hour, Ryan. I've got to run these papers to my lawyer and then there are a couple of other people I should see. Alexis and Mom will be here to make sure you and the kiddos don't tire each other out. I'll be back tomorrow with some 'homework' for you." He flashed the famous Castle smile, hugged everyone, and left the room.

His next stop, after visiting his lawyer, was a small apartment in the Village. He knocked and, after a couple of minutes, was let in by a plump, smiling Puerto Rican woman.

"Tia Marisol, who is it?" Esposito's voice came from the back.

"Espo, it's me, Castle. You got a minute?"


	21. Chapter 21

Tia Marisol, the plump, pretty, older Puerto Rican woman led Castle into the tiny, immaculately clean kitchen. She went back into the living room where she had been busy dusting and straightening.

"Girlfriend?"

"No, she's my Tia, my Auntie. My mother's younger sister. She's been helping me since I got out of the hospital."

"Good to have family."

"Yeah, no shit. I don't know what I'd have done without them."

Castle pulled up a chair and sat. "What are you going to do now?"

"Don't know. I'm not like Ryan, my injuries won't keep me from going back to work. And Gates has pretty much redacted the negative stuff from my record, so there'll be no repercussions from that quarter. I'm just not sure I _want_ to go back. Call it PTSD or whatever, I just don't want to see that place again."

"I get that. I don't want to either. Lot of things I don't want to do, but, some of them, I have to do."

"Yeah, I know. I've got feelers out for another job, but my skills are limited and anything that's not actual police work gets into some shady areas sometimes. Thing is, my leave is up in two weeks and if I don't have something, I'll have to go back. I just can't see not working." He touched a small box on the table in front of him. "I got this for Lanie." He pushed it toward Castle, "Go ahead, look, tell me what you think."

Castle opened the box. Inside was a turquoise velvet box with the word Tiffany embossed on it. Inside that box was a ring. It was white gold. Two hands clasped a heart made of yellow gold that had a tiny chip of ruby set in the center. There was a word engraved inside the band – Always.

"I'm impressed, Espo. A Claddagh ring - nice one, too. And from Tiffany's."

"I've been saving up since I can remember for something like that. I wanted to give the right woman something special. And Lanie's the right woman. The past few days proved that." He smiled. "She's badass. Anyway, if she'll have me … "

"I wish I could guarantee that, but I'm having trouble guaranteeing much of anything these days. Anyway, I have a reason for being here. For starters, if you couldn't be a cop, or didn't want to be one anymore, what would you want to do?"

"I don't know. Teach, work with troubled kids, something like that."

"You need college for that, right?'

"Yeah, I've already got some. Took courses while I was in the Army. I'm taking night courses now. I'm pretty close to a BA."

"In what?"

"You'll laugh."

"Maybe, but try me."

"Psychology."

"Not laughing … well, maybe a little. Here's an idea. Don't go back to the Police Department. I'll give you a job – either with Ryan at the detective agency or as a bartender/manager at the Old Haunt – on the condition that you finish your degree and either get a teaching credential or a Master's in Psychology or something past the BA. I'll give you flexibility so you can take the classes you need when you need them. I'll even help you with tuition and books."

"Castle, why are you doing this?"

"You're a friend. And, I owe you. This whole mess happened because of Kate…, and me: and you stood by us."

By this time Marisol had finished her work in the living room and was back in the kitchen. "Javi, take it. If you don't, you're estupido, muy estupido. You finish school, you help others do the same. And maybe my son will follow your path and make good choices and good friends." She stood facing him, arms crossed, frowning, tapping her foot. "This is honorable; you helped him, he helps you."

Esposito leaned back in his chair and attempted to look at her challengingly. It didn't work. He shook his head and threw his hands up. "Castle, anyone ever tries to convince you that Latinas are meek, submissive, and obedient – don't believe them. They run the families. The men, they just do as they're told." He gave his aunt a long look. "Ok, Tia, I'll do it."

"Good. You, Mr. Castle, you're a good man. You do right by your friends." She turned back to Esposito. "And I am a good, obedient wife to my husband. You ask him, he'll tell you." She began gathering her coat and purse. "Your dinner is in the refrigerator; you just heat it up. I'll come in tomorrow to see how you are."

The men watched her leave.

Castle turned back to Esposito. "Well?"

"You heard my Tia. I'm going to take your offer. She'd kill me if I didn't. I'm going to have to think about the jobs, though. Working with Ryan might be cool, but there could be some conflict. When I was working for the Department, it was tough coordinating studying and stakeouts. The bartender/manager job might work better. I'll think about it. Maybe I'll talk to Ryan about it. I'll let you know by the end of the week which it will be. Fair enough?"

"Ok, although there are a couple of other options."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I could hire you as a personal assistant. You'd come to my place, answer the phones, make appointments, and keep people from bothering me: occasionally, if the need arose, you might act as a bodyguard. You'd have all the time you needed to study and your hours would depend on your class schedule. The only thing is, you'd have to deal with Gina. Or, you could just go to school full time and I'd give you a no-interest, pay it back when you can, loan to cover the cost and related expenses."

"No interest and pay it back at my convenience? That's a lot of trust."

"You've already paid the interest. And, yes, I do trust you to either pay it back or pay it forward."

Javier leaned back gave Castle a long, thoughtful look. A few minutes passed before he spoke. "Or I could just go back to the Department. But, I don't want to do that. I want that education. I've suddenly realized just how badly I want it. I'm going to think about everything we've talked about. I'll talk to my family and I'll talk to Ryan and Lanie." He got up and went to the refrigerator. "Tia Marisol always makes too much; you want to stay for dinner?"


	22. Chapter 22

Castle let the last people into the loft and looked around with a small degree of satisfaction. Except for Ryan, Esposito, and Kate, the whole family was present. Ryan and Esposito had good reasons – Ryan's kids were sick, some sort of flu going around, and he didn't want to leave them with a sitter; Esposito had a test the next day and needed to study. Kate's absence was harder to explain and harder to excuse. She'd missed meetings with the couple's counselor, with the lawyer, with her physical therapist, with him and always with no reasonable explanation. It was starting to feel like a replay of the Loksat scenario. At least she wasn't ditching his phone calls.

He almost felt like doing roll call, but held himself back. He grabbed a bottle of water and his plate of food and maneuvered himself to a convenient chair; he was becoming expert at managing the cane. He'd decided to make a virtue of necessity and acquired a small collection of gentleman's walking sticks all equipped with blades, flasks, or other hidden goodies and all quite fashionable and stylish. He fancied himself a bit of a Steed only wanting a bowler hat and the elegant Emma Peel to complete the picture. Today he was using his latest acquisition, a gift from Anders.

It had been four months since the firefight at the 12th precinct. Everyone was recovered or near recovered from their injuries – at least as recovered as they would be.

Alexis was, if anything, prettier than ever. Her red hair was still vibrant, though now accented with a small streak of white. There was barely perceptible scarring along her jaw and near her eye. She was scheduled for one more surgery to correct a troublesome misalignment of her jaw and nose. She was doing beautifully. The only thing that troubled him was her decision to abandon law school. She had applied for and taken and passed the test for the Police Academy. She would start in the first class after her last surgery was over.

Martha had completely recovered from her heart attack and was back doing what she loved best – being the theatrical and ebullient Martha Rodgers.

Hayley and Anders had suffered minor (relatively speaking) wounds and were completely recovered. Slaughter was another story. He'd received a spinal injury which had nearly paralyzed him. He'd recovered, though not without a great deal of pain. He still felt that pain if he moved too quickly or was on his feet for too long. He'd taken a disability retirement from the NYPD with a package that was similar to Ryan's. Castle had offered him a job but he'd delayed accepting, electing to go to culinary school first. He was dating Gina. Castle wasn't sure how to process that.

Kate's father, Jim, had made the most spectacular recovery. He had been expected to live the rest of his life in a wheelchair and to need round-the-clock nursing. He was using a wheeled walker and had attained a considerable degree of independence – even to the extent of working two days a week in his office. He needed a housekeeper, but was otherwise living, quite happily, on his own.

Lanie was sporting a Claddagh ring on the third finger of her left hand and was inordinately pleased with life.

Chief Gates, her sister, and Vikram had been the last to arrive. Gates had resigned from her position as Deputy Chief and had asked for, and gotten, her old job as Captain of Homicide at the 12th Precinct back. She had mellowed considerably, as she remembered why she had gone into police work in the first place. Her sister was still with the AG's office, but their relationship had improved and strengthened. Vikram was back with the 12th as one of the cybercrime technicians. He and Tory were developing a relationship that seemed to be somewhat closer than a 'working' relationship.

The only person who was floundering was Kate. She had found herself faced with the choice of retiring from the Department or facing charges. Either way, she was out of a job. At least with retirement she would get a severance package and a pension; the black marks on her record had been redacted, though she would not, it was understood, get another job in law enforcement. Castle was pretty certain that he was going to have to confront her and demand that she get back on track. He was not looking forward to it.

Except for the worrying problem that was Kate, everything was going well, better than expected, really.

The get-together, which had started as a 'family meeting' with the intention of finding out how everyone was progressing and what was needed to aid that progress, had evolved into a party. Gates had found the piano and was playing a jazz piece that sounded like something Gershwin had written. Slaughter was in the kitchen making sandwiches to order and the others, including Jim Beckett, were talking and laughing together.

He sat back, satisfaction mingled with misery. He wanted Kate to be here. He wanted her to be on the road to recovery so they could work, together, on the mess that their marriage had become.

It had been midafternoon when the party started. It started to wind down at about 8:00 pm. He had shown the last guest out, calling a cab for Jim, and was getting ready to wind down himself. Gina had brought new contracts for him to review. He figured he'd do that and then get ready for bed. He admitted that he was looking forward to writing something other than thrillers. He'd had too much of that recently.

He'd put the last page of the contract down, penciling a question in the margin and striking out a sentence he didn't care for, when he heard a knock at the door.


	23. Chapter 23

_Almost there. I think at least one more chapter after this._

Kate stood in front of Rick, looking defiant and defensive, ready to fight.

"Kate." He stepped aside and let her in. "Can I get you a drink? Or maybe some food?" He followed her as she silently walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of water and nothing else.

"What do you want, Castle?"

"What do _I_ want? You walk in here with a fucking chip on your shoulder, like I'm the only one with a problem and you ask that?" He walked around until the island was between them. "Fine. I'll tell you what I want. I want a wife. Specifically, I want _you_ to be my wife. But your actions now and for the past year tell me that that's not what you want. So, why don't you tell me what _you_ want. Do you want to be my wife? Because if you don't, I'll file for divorce tomorrow. If you do, however, want to be my wife, things are going to have to change."

"She looked at him angrily. "I want you, and everyone else, to stop judging me."

"Not gonna happen. You behave in ways that do harm to people, you're going to be judged. That's just the way it is."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Fine. Get the divorce."

"Is that what you really want?"

"I asked for it."

" . . .want?"

"Stop treating me like a child."

"Stop acting like a child."

She glared.

"We're supposed to be grownups here, Kate. We need to start acting like it. You want all of this to be over, as if it never happened. You want things to be the way they were before. Well, here's the thing. It happened. People got hurt. People died. People will never be the same. It will never be the way it was." He enunciated each word. "What you did affected everyone we know, and some we didn't. What I did affected everyone we know, and some we didn't. We, you and I, are responsible. Both of us. If we go forward, we have to do go forward understanding that."

"That wasn't how it was supposed to be."

"Yeah, good intentions. Whatever."

She took her water into the living room and slumped onto the couch. She looked miserable.

He followed and took a seat in his favorite chair – the one he'd sat in when Alexis came home from the prom. He followed that thought. That memory of a happy moment calmed him.

They were silent for several minutes.

Kate started. "Ok, Castle. Just how are we supposed to do this? I apologize to you? Do you apologize to me? What do you think we need to do?" Her eyes challenged him.

"We need to be adults, Kate. We need to realize that we both went off the rails. We need to admit that we both have problems that we can't control by ourselves. We need to get help." He watched her as he spoke. "We both have issues. We can excuse them and tell ourselves that they're part of who we are. We can rationalize them away and try to blame others for not being able to "accept us for who we are'. But the bottom line is that these issues are harmful to ourselves and others and we need to fix them. All those counseling sessions you blew off, Kate; I went to them. You weren't there, but I was. I talked, she listened. Then I listened – and learned. I can fix myself Kate. I can't fix you. Only you can fix you and you have to want to."

"Hmmph. What, in your humble opinion, is wrong with me?"

"I can tell you all sorts of thing. It won't help. You're the one who needs to realize it, on your own. I can tell you that you have some sort of addiction. I'm not sure what it is, but you have it. You can't ever just live a life; you need to be off tilting at windmills. You're fucking Crusader Kate, the Savior of Mankind and Avenging Angel. You aren't Kate the cop, Kate the wife, Kate the human being."

"I had to do those things."

"I'm sure, in your mind, you thought that. But the reality is, no, you didn't have to do them. You didn't have to endanger your family and friends. Or, if you really thought it was necessary, you could have read us in and gotten our help. You didn't trust us."

"You don't understand."

"I don't have to understand. Kate, love is important, but in a marriage, or a friendship, it's not enough. You need trust and respect and a willingness to talk about things. You've shown none of those attributes. You didn't trust me; you didn't respect me and you didn't talk to me."

"You started it. You started pushing me about my mother, you wouldn't let up, you kept on at me. If it weren't for you, this would never have started."

"You're right, I started it. But that's not what's important now. What's important now is fixing the issues and, hopefully, if it's what you want, fixing our marriage. And then, fixing our friendships. If you're willing, we can do it. It'll be hard work."

Her jaw worked. He was starting to feel hopeful. She had sat and listened, she hadn't run off. Maybe, just maybe, she would see where he wanted to go and would want to go with him.

"Here's the deal, Kate. I give this one year. We live apart. We meet with a couple's counselor once a week. We meet with individual therapists once a week. Or more for both if it's thought necessary. We work on our individual problems and our problems as a couple. We do this for one year. At the end of that time, we revisit and decide if we're ready to commit to this marriage."

"If you don't want do this, Kate, or if you renege at any time, then all bets are off. We separate and divorce and there's no further contact. What do you want to do?"

She seemed in shock. Then, slowly, she nodded. "I want to work on it."

"Good. But, keep in mind, this is a commitment. You must follow through and do it. You miss a meeting without a valid reason, it's over and so are we."


	24. Chapter 24

Seven years. Castle pondered the number. Why, he wondered did it seem to go so slowly when you were living it; but when it was over it seemed to have gone in a flash? It had been seven years since he'd handed Kate the ultimatum. Seven years that had dragged so slowly and were gone in an instant.

He leaned back and looked at the words on the computer screen. Satisfied, he hit the button that would send them to Gina. He rose from his chair, stretched, and limped to the living room.

Time to get ready for the invasion. He smiled. Alexis, now a detective at the same 12th precinct he had once frequented, and her husband would be here soon, along with his two children by his previous marriage and their mutual child, Martha Kate. He had worried, at first, when Alexis had announced who she was going to marry. The age difference and the fact that he'd been married before, the fact of his two children; it all had added up, in his opinion, to a disaster in the making. He needn't have worried. Ryan had been a good friend and was now both a good friend and a good son-in-law. Of course, Alexis did rule the Ryan Roost.

He did a slow turn around the living room and kitchen. It was going to be a raucous family meeting. Espo, now Dr. Esposito, professor of psychology, and Lanie would be bringing the twins, Lexie and Ed (short for Edgar). Ethan, executive chef and part-owner of 'the Slaughterhouse' (the building really had been a slaughterhouse once, Castle cringed slightly at the name, but had to admit it did a good business), and Gina had no kids, by mutual agreement, but they made up for it by having a childlike, not childish he told himself, childlike, approach to their life together. Vikram, he insisted on being called Vik, and Tory had finally gotten out of their holding pattern and set a date. Hayley and Anders, a couple at this point, Gates and her sister, would also be along. His mother and her current beau, Jim Beckett would be there – her relationship with Beckett's father had come as a surprise, to both Kate and Castle.

Though, in truth, it couldn't be considered that much of a surprise. All the relationships in the 'family' were the result of shared experiences, shared traumas. No one could have understood these people and what they'd gone through except – these people.

The living room and kitchen seemed in good order; food and drinks readily available. He went to the master bedroom thinking to take a shower before everyone arrived. The old injury still troubled him, but now he only used the cane when he was very tired or when the weather was bad – he had trouble in snow, rain, and wind and on rough terrain. Once in the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. Not bad, he thought, for a man of fifty. A bit grayer, a bit more tired looking, but not bad. He turned on the water and stripped.

He'd finished his shower, dressed, and stepped back into the living room just as a four-year-old, red-headed ball of energy charged at him, nearly knocking him over. "Daddy!" She yelled gleefully and leaped into his arms. She hugged him as hard as she could and, of course, he hugged back. He looked over her head at her mother. The two of them were just coming back from a walk to a small, nearby park. Kate was flushed and a bit windblown. He smiled at her. She had just turned forty-three and still looked much as she had on the day they met almost sixteen years ago. She returned his smile and came over to give him a kiss while retrieving their daughter.

"Everything's already set up, Kate, so why don't you and Kitty-cat here go get ready. If anything comes up, I'll take care of it."

He looked at the retreating forms with pride and love. It had been rocky. It had taken, not the one year that he had initially projected, but nearly two. Kate, who had finally gotten her law degree and started a small, but successful, practice, had been resistant to talking about some of her issues and even more resistant to doing the work to ameliorate them. Truth to tell, so had he. He hadn't wanted to give up some of his more reckless, defiant behavior any more than she had. But, oddly, when he had been a petulant, spoiled brat, she had been the one to yank him out of it. And when she had decided to throw what could only be described as tantrums, he had been the one to pull her up short. The counselors had, for the most part, provided safe space for their work and some very necessary 'guidance' (also known as putting the brakes on destructive behavior). It had been a tempestuous two years and on a couple of occasions they had very nearly called it quits. They still had the counselors on speed-dial – just in case – and had had occasion to use them once or twice. Marriage, especially a marriage between Kate Beckett and Richard Castle was, and always would be, a work in progress – something to take one day at a time.

There was a knock at the door.

 _This is the end of this story. I wrote it with a happy ending, because, unlike reality, fiction can have nice, neat, tidy, happy endings. Reality is, and always will be, messy._

 _I'm pretty sure there are many more stories here – stories about what took place during those two years of therapy: stories about the progress of other characters – Espo's journey to a PhD, Ryan's and Alexis' courtship, Ethan and Gina. Maybe I'll write some of them, maybe one of you will._

 _To the guest who objected to Esposito using the word always on Lanie's ring – Castle does not own the copyright on the word, anyone can use it, even Espo._

 _To other guests who think that the way to critique a work is to bash other people commenting on the works because they disagree with their perceptions – get over yourselves – people are allowed to be Caskett fans, just as they're allowed to hate Caskett. The point here is to discuss the story, not your opinions of the people who are discussing the story._

 _Finally, thank you for reading. It was fun (sort of) writing it. I appreciate the comments._


End file.
